Push
by godfatherambs
Summary: One night, one game, and one hot rendezvous.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Instinctu divitatis," Jason Morgan murmured in a heavy Italian accent as he glanced down at the petit, brunette who had been eyeing the photograph of the _Arch of Constantine._

She raised an eyebrow at him, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity as a slow grin tugged at her lips. Her eyes lowered briefly, sweeping over his form, and Jason knew she was admiring him for all that he was worth.

He returned her admiration, drinking in the way her crimson ball gown fit her snugly at the hips, displaying her tiny waist that he had the immediate desire to feel wrapped around him. His gaze lingered at the steep dip of her neckline, reveling in how the material folded around her supple breasts.

"Jason," he said in a low husky voice, extending his hand out to her, relieved to finally come across someone he was sure he could talk to.

She removed one of her hands that had been clutching her glass of champagne and placed it into his. "Elizabeth," she replied, her slender fingers giving his hand a tight squeeze.

Her palm was soft like velvet against his calloused hand and Jason grinned knowing that the rest of her body was probably just as silky. He licked his lips, imagining what she would be like in bed. She looked soft and demure, but like most women of her physique, they had a dirty side-_one that Jason Morgan ached to bring out._

She pulled her hand away from his and tilted her head towards the photograph. "I take it you're an architecture aficionado."

"Italy enthusiast," he corrected, swinging his eyes briefly back to the photograph, then back at hers. They were blue, but not just _any_ blue. They were a color and a brightness that had yet to be defined. He had the feeling that a lot of her was undefined. "The Arch of Constantine is one of the most beautiful-"

"Most people would say that's the Coliseum," she said challengingly as she gently brushed her loosely curled locks from her face.

"Then those people have never actually been to Italy," he replied smugly, dipping his head towards her. "Though there is also-"

"Palatine Hill," Elizabeth cut in, interrupting him for the second time. Jason tried to hide his amusement of her knowledge, but of course, she had picked up on it. She sipped her champagne, then placed a mocking hand on her chest. "What? Did I steal your next attempt at making me feel inferior?"

He swallowed hard, tugging at the collar of his tuxedo shirt. "I wasn't implying-"

"Yes, you were," she whispered, leaning into him. "You thought you'd rattle off some unimpressive history and that I would fall all over myself in disbelief that a man cares that much," She paused again, switching to a breathy, ditzy tone, _"About an old building that some stupid Italian carved." _

She cocked her head at him, her lips wearing the most beautiful smirk Jason had ever seen. "_Intinctu divinitatis_…Do you even know what that means? What it really means?"

"Inspired by the divine," he replied without missing a beat, though it was hard for him to focus when she was looking at him like _that._ Her lips were far too plump, asking to be taken, and the smell of vanilla that seemed to roll off of her in waves was nearly drowning him.

He took a sip of his bourbon, narrowing his eyes at her. "Some call it a play on Constantine's religious context, of how God appeared in a vision to Constantine. I'm sure you know the whole _To the Emperor Caesar Flavius Constantinus, the greatest, pious, and_-"

"_Blessed Augustus: because he, inspired by the divine, and by the greatness_…And so on," she filled in, blatantly rolling her eyes at Jason. She glanced around the room, shaking her head. "How many women does this tactic work on?"

Jason didn't have to follow her gaze to know that she was criticizing every bleached blonde, implanted and tucked, poorly dressed date that the majority of men had brought tonight.

He hated functions like these, yet they were always deemed necessary whenever he established some kind of new business venture. His partner always told him, they reminded people of his true, inner virtues, but Jason could have cared less. People knew who he was and what he did regardless and it had never phased him. He wasn't going to brown nose and gravel at those who were secretly disgusted by him and the things he did when the sun went down.

It was truly sad, which was why he spent most of the night by himself. Careening from poker table to poker table, only to end up alone on the deck watching the stars that appeared to float over the water.

"I wasn't trying to use it on them," he said, continuing their banter as he flashed a flirtatious grin at her.

She tried not to return the smile, but it was obvious she was flattered by his attention. "Oh, no, you don't have to be that creative with them," she replied. "I'm sure something along the lines of I have a condom, meet me in the nearest empty bathroom works just fine."

He shrugged, flicking his tongue across his lips. She definitely was not like most women who attended this functions. "Is the bathroom too tacky for a woman of your stature?"

"To each their own," she replied, folding one arm across her chest as she sipped her champagne. She leaned into him, her eyes fiery with desire. "But I prefer the coat closet."

He bit his cheeks to keep from laughing, but couldn't help and enjoy the way she came back at him so quickly. "Coat closets are nice," he murmured, his eyes roaming over body again. He imagined how well the curve of her body would mold against his. "They're dark and quiet…"

"Plenty of bars and racks to brace yourself on," she replied coyly, her tongue sweeping across her lips before she sank her teeth into the lower one. "Though, it can prove to be hell on your body the next day."

She winked at him, then turned away sauntering down the row of photographs that were hanging on the wall. He watched the way her hips move, swinging from side to side, the fabric bunching around the smooth curve of her ass.

Okay, so _normally_, he hated functions like these where everyone wore a façade that countered their true existence, the rich and poor coming out alike. Each person competing to have acquired the most attractive date and posh suit or the most supplicated demeanor. At midnight, the boat would dock and the guests would retire to their rooms or onto dry land, the reality of their sad lives coming back to them. And those that refused to give up on their fantasy right away, would continue playing craps and blackjack until their wallets were empty and their savings scraped dry.

_But she was different. _

"Who is that fine piece of-"

"She's mine," Jason cut in, turning his head towards his friend and business partner, Johnny O'Brien.

"She's all real," he replied, making an unimpressed face. "You know me. I like my blondes with the silicone boobs and-"

"Then you should have your fill tonight," he said, rolling his eyes in disgust.

Jason Morgan may have slept with a lot of women, but he had never succumbed to one who was over tanned and plastically built. He wanted a woman with skin as soft as silk and a good, sultry smell that lingered on him for days. He liked his women's bodies to move beneath him. He liked being able to mold their breast in the palm of his hand, making it his own.

"What's her name?"

"Elizabeth."

"Which tells me jack shit," he said, looking her over far too much for Jason's comfort. Jason slapped him in the side of the head. "What the hell was that for?"

"Mine."

"You're awfully possessive over this chick. Who is she?"

"I have no idea," Jason replied, his mouth going dry when she looked his way long enough to swipe her tongue over her button lip before chewing it on, a devious grin on her face. He ached to chew on it for her. "But I need you to find out."

"It's your boat," Johnny murmured in annoyance. "Your casino opening. Isn't that damn assistant of yours supposed to keep up with stuff like this?"

"Oh, you mean the one I had to fire because you slept with her," he spat, taking a long sip of his bourbon, his eyes following Elizabeth's body as she moseyed across the room.

Johnny grunted. "I told her I don't do commitments. And then she went all Fatal Attraction on me."

He flashed his eyes to Johnny's, shooting him a glare. "Fatal Attraction?"

"Michael Douglas bangs the shit out of Glen Close. And he's married and she goes-"

"Johnny, shut up," he interrupted, shaking his head. Johnny started to ramble on again, but he ignored him, realizing that he'd lost her. He glanced around the room, his eyes suddenly landing on her again. It was as if she was waiting on him to find her. "I'm not asking you. Just find out whatever you can about her."

"So, maybe it's your turn to go all Fatal Attraction," Johnny murmured, turning around and stalking off towards the bar.

Jason ignored his fit, knowing Johnny would come through like he always did. He watched as she played with the strap of her dress, letting her delicate hand linger against her creamy shoulder, a bemused smile on her face. She looked as though she didn't understand why Jason was giving her so much attention, but she sure was enjoying it.

He groaned quietly to himself when he felt the stirring in his pants. He tucked his hand into the waist of his pants, adjusting them against him, knowing that at this rate, he'd either have to get her into the coat closet or go home empty handed.

And Jason Morgan never went home empty handed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Johnny wasn't here to play cupid. He was here to gamble, hopefully doubling his wallet. And maybe to get laid.

Yeah, he definitely wanted to get laid.

And judging from the content of the room, he really did have his pick of the litter. Sure, he didn't possess the swagger and charm that caused the ladies to fall over their feet in front of him like Jason did, but with a flash of his pearly whites and a dirty joke, he usually made panties fall.

He sipped his glass of bourbon as he made his way across the room, weaving in and out of various poker tables. Elizabeth was still standing alone, seeming to appreciate the artwork Jason had chosen for the walls, rather than the actual gambling aspect of the night. He watched her intently, trying to figure out why Jason was so instantly attracted to her.

She was attractive-in that out of place way. He watched her dismiss another man who had accosted her at a photograph, quickly making a polite exit from his come on. It was obvious she wanted to be anywhere but here and Johnny didn't understand why she had come.

He cursed himself for sleeping with Jason's assistant because she would have known exactly who the Elizabeth was, who/if she came with anyone, and what kind of money she'd be spending at the tables-But in his own defense, she was a really hot assistant. And she had wanted Johnny from day one, and who was he to deny a perfectly nice lay to someone who wanted it.

He watched Elizabeth mosey slowly against the wall, glancing over her shoulder at the man who had just spoken to her. For a second, Johnny thought that she was flirting with him in the same manner that she had Jason, but then he realized she looked disgusted, annoyed, and maybe even scared.

Which, of course, gave him the perfect entrance.

"I can throw him overboard if you like," he murmured, stepping in front of her.

She came to a halt, her eyes filled with annoyance, then flattery, and then even more annoyance. "If I wanted him thrown overboard, I could do it myself," she replied, tightening her grip on her champagne glass.

"You're a feisty one," he said, admiring the way her plump lips turned upward in an appreciative smile. "But you see, if I throw him overboard, I would get away with it."

She raised her eyebrows at him with curiosity. "And I wouldn't?" she asked, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face. "I'm a tiny little woman. No one would ever believe that I tossed a two hundred plus pound male overboard. Not to mention my impeccable record."

"Impeccable, eh?" he asked, wrinkling up his nose.

"Let me guess, your's is just full of _incidents_," she replied, taking a sip from her champagne glass. "None of which are actually your fault though, right?"

"Don't be condescending," he said, jerking her champagne glass from her hand. Seriously, he asked himself, why did Jason want to sleep with her?

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, reaching for her glass.

"Cutting you off," he replied, holding it above her head.

He was amused when she reached for it, looking like a dog jumping for it's treat. She realized how stupid she must have looked, stopping to fold her arms across her chest, forcing Johnny to look down at her breasts. They were nice for _real_ ones. And he couldn't help but notice how curvy her hips were and the way the dress looked as if it had been sewn onto her body.

Okay, so maybe he could understand why Jason wanted to sleep with her.

"Give me my drink, you asshole," she said, glaring at him with her beady blue eyes.

Yeah, those were pretty hot too.

"You've had enough," he replied, shaking a scolding finger at her. "I was simply trying to make conversation and you had to go-"

"Oh please," she interrupted, rolling her eyes, an amused smile on her face. She held up her hand, counting off on two of her fingers. "You were either hitting on me, which is exceptionally rude seeing as your friend himself was coming onto me not even twenty minutes ago."

"I was not hitting-"

"Or you were coming over here to get the goods for your friend who for some reason is clearly incapable of asking me what he wants to know himself," she continued, pausing only to see if he would say she was wrong. "Yeah, that's right. I saw you with him. I'm not stupid."

He panicked, knowing he was losing momentum, and that Jason would be upset with him if he came back empty handed. He really didn't feel like dealing with a pissed off Jason tonight.

"If you behave, you can have your drink back," he said, lowering it down in front of her.

She slid a hand down her hip, popping it out to the side. "Or I could go tell your friend what an asshole his friend is."

"And you're just so charming yourself, doll face," Johnny replied, tossing back her glass of champagne and depositing the empty glass on a passing waiters tray. "You know, some time with Jason may do you some good."

"You son of a bitch," she hissed, her hand striking his face before he realized she had pounced.

Heads turned around them and people gasped and murmured, shaking their heads, but Johnny didn't even notice. He was too busy actually being turned on by the aggressive, little number.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" he asked, rubbing his palm over his cheek.

"Not anymore. She's dead," she replied flatly, her hands gripping her hips tightly.

Johnny knew she wanted to hit him again, but that she was telling herself to have self control. Of course, this only gave him the desire to push her buttons even more.

"Oh, too bad she didn't get to see what a wench her daughter turned out to be," he retorted, sipping his whiskey.

Her blue eyes sparkled with fury. He stepped back, half expecting another slap from her. "You tell Jason that if he's going to send someone to speak to me, he should make sure their IQ is larger than their shoe size," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

His eyes dipped to her breasts again. It was really, _really _hard not to look downward when she was pushing them up like that.

"And that they can actually look me in the face," she continued, leaning forward to place her hand under his chin, pulling his face upward. "Hello?"

He flashed a pearly grin, sipping his whiskey. "Hello to you, too."

She scowled, pushing past him, her shoulder knocking into him hard. He heard her swear under her breath as she stomped away. Was it wrong that he was so turned on by her lack of enthusiasm for him?

God, at this rate, Jason was going to kill him.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he called, moving after her. His hand slipped over her elbow, tugging her back towards him. "Can we start over? Elizabeth, was it?"

She rolled her eyes, spinning around to face him. "What? You can't even remember the name of the girl you're going after?"

"I don't usually pay much attention to names," he replied honestly.

Much to his surprise, she actually laughed. Her face flushed immediately as if she were embarrassed to be laughing at him.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her hand over her mouth. "You just…That comment…It's funny. You remind me of someone I know, except you're funny."

"And you find that charming right?" Johnny asked, looking over her head to see Jason's eyes practically boring a hole into his skull.

Great, he had seen _everything_.

"Oh, I can barely contain myself," she replied sarcastically, a slow grin spreading across her lips.

Johnny shifted his eyes back to hers, noticing how pleased she looked with herself. Sure, Jason had sent Johnny to rally her, playing a game in some sense. But Johnny had the sinking feeling she was five steps ahead of them both, playing a game of her own.

"Kind of makes me want to strip naked and bang you right here on the blackjack table," she continued, making a gagging motion with her mouth.

Johnny was so focused on the words strip naked, bang, and blackjack table that he failed to notice her obvious disgust. He decided that if Jason hadn't claimed her by the end of the night, he sure as hell would.

Maybe those _real _girls were where it was at.

"So, I remind you of a jerk," he replied, narrowing his eyes at her.

Her eyes flickered, darkening briefly, but the same light hearted sparkle returned almost instantly. "Guys are jerks period," she said firmly.

"Not me," he replied earnestly, placing a mocking hand on his chest. "I may come off rather tough and all, but on the inside I'm really weak and fragile."

She shook her head and Johnny could swear he saw the beginnings of a genuine grin. "Let me guess, Jason is the same way, right?"

"Something like that," he replied with a sad nod. "He has issues with the parental unit. They've left a hole in his heart."

"And you want me to fix that hole?" she asked, her eyes filled with curiosity.

Johnny knew he was in. She was just as interested in the mystique of Jason as any other woman in the room. Besides, telling a woman that a man had issues with their parents always got them hook, line, and sinker. He should know, he'd used it enough.

"You could be the one."

She laughed again, but this time it wasn't too patronize him. It was a bona fide, head thrown back laugh. "God, do you have a book where you get these lines from?"

"Don't hate the player," he said, tilting his head to the side and looking at her.

"Oh, I don't hate the player," she replied coyly, biting her lip briefly.

Yeah, she was _definitely_ playing a game of her own.

"So, what do you want to know?" she asked, her hand on her hip as she cocked it to the side once again.

It was a stance that said come hither, one that could probably make men fall to their knees. Hell, Johnny couldn't stand her and he wanted to come hither all over her.

"What. Do. You. Want?" she asked slowly, leaning forward and peering up at him.

God, he was tongue tied over a woman.

It was the apocalypse or the second coming. He glanced at the entrance to the casino, half expecting to see Jesus.

"Okay," she said with a heavy sigh, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Last name's Webber. Vitals, right? Um, my bra size is a 36B, probably not enough for a guy like you, but I don't mind. They're still perky, that's what matters, right?"

She paused, wondering if he was following, then rattled on. "I wear a size two. I'm O Negative. I majored in architecture at NYU, but don't tell Jason that. It may make him feel even more inadequate than he already does."

"I hate champagne, but I'm drinking it because if I drink whiskey, which I prefer, I won't be able to walk in these damn five inch heels I'm wearing," she continued, tapping her finger to her chin as if she were thinking carefully. "I love chocolate cake. And I'm not really one of those long walks on the beach kind of girls. I'd rather do something reckless, but safe, like drive really fast down a curvy road or bungee jump. Which I've never done because I'm too scared."

She made a face, then shrugged. "I think that's good enough for now."

He nodded dumbly, furrowing his brow as he looked at her. Who in the hell was this girl?

"I guess you should run along and pass on the good word," she murmured, throwing her thumb towards the bar where Jason was sitting.

Had she known he was watching?

He simply nodded again and she looked worried at his sudden vow of silence. She gave him another second to respond and when he didn't, she stepped past him and started to walk away.

"Oh, duh," she called out behind him. He felt her slip up behind him, her chin resting on his shoulder. "I forgot the most obvious thing of all. I did come with a date, but he's not one I plan on going home with."

And then, she was gone.

Really, she was gone.

Johnny turned around, feeling as though he should at least bid her goodbye, but then it was as if she had simply disappeared from his sight.

Who in the fuck was that girl?

He turned back to Jason's direction, not surprised to see his darkened eyes still staring at him. Fuck, he was mad. Johnny made his way across the room slowly, glancing over his shoulder one last time. He figured if Jesus was making an appearance, he should at least come and pray over his body.

Jason was definitely going to kill him.

"Well?" Jason asked when he neared.

Johnny lowered his empty glass beside Jason's on the bar as he slid onto a stool, giving Jason a sad frown. "Uh, yeah, sorry, but I don't think you're hitting that tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Elizabeth sat at the empty blackjack table, drumming her fingers against the soft, green felt. She yawned, reaching for her glass of champagne, coming to terms with her boredom. She was on a gambling boat with the finest of Port Charles high society, so there should have been something to keep her interested.

Then again, she had just wiped out an entire table of middle aged business men playing blackjack. It wasn't her fault that they had been to busy staring at her bust or getting lost in their dirty thoughts every time she batted her eyes at them. She had no desire to even win, but once she sat down, it came so easily.

She wasn't used to be so adored by every man that she passed, but she also wasn't used to flaunting herself in such a ridiculous manner. Usually, she spent most of her time as a wallflower; lingering in doorways or standing next to the buffet table, leaving little time to be accosted.

In her own defense, she wasn't flaunting herself when the night began. She was just admiring a beautiful photograph that not only someone with taste, but true admiration for Italian architecture had chosen. She never expected someone to notice her when she was literally staring at the wall.

And while it probably sounded silly, ever since he'd looked at her with those cerulean eyes, she'd felt a spark light somewhere deep inside her. She was embarrassed when she thought about how she had treated him; coming off so short and cold when in actuality she was truly charmed by the way he spoke about the photograph.

Elizabeth had grown up in a man's world. Heaven forbid that a woman actually know something about a building (made by a man nonetheless), let alone how to actually build one. She was used to condescending tones and crude remarks about how her skills were best suited for a classroom. She didn't mind though because it forced her to be so focused and determined to prove herself, which is what she blamed her poor attitude towards Jason on.

She'd come to terms that a man only wanted a short list of things from her; to pick her brain to better their own ideas (she'd lost count how many times someone had stolen an idea of her own and used it themselves, giving her no credit), to berate her (because she actually was smarter or more capable than they were), or to sleep with her (which was the most upsetting of all).

So, it was nice to find someone else proclaim their obsession with Italy. She'd been several times, always taking trips alone whenever she traveled abroad. There was no better way than to see Italy than with your own eyes and heart guiding you. She feared that bringing someone would only ruin the experience. She thrived on living on her own schedule, wandering beneath the ancient buildings that she'd studied, and the last thing she wanted was a straggler making a mess of everything.

"Is it a good or bad sign when you're the last one left at a table?" came a familiar voice behind her.

She didn't have to turn around to know it was him. His gentle voice sent a shiver down her spine and she felt the color rush to her cheeks.

"Ms. Webber," he said, his breath hot on her ear. "Please don't tell me you're counting cards."

Her mouth started to fall open, but she caught herself, spinning around in her chair to face him. "How dare you insinuate-"

"I've been watching you," he murmured, sitting down in the empty chair beside her.

His cerulean orbs remained locked on hers as he leaned towards her, placing a hand on her knee. There was silk between her skin and his palm, leaving her only to imagine what it would feel like to have his hand on her bare skin.

"More like stalking me," she replied, raising her eyebrows at him. She had to do her best to gathering her bearings or else he would surely one up her. She nodded at Johnny who was standing several feet away. "Or rather, sending the hired help in your place."

"He's not hired help," he said, glancing in Johnny's direction as he spun Elizabeth back towards the blackjack table. "He's my business partner."

"And just what kind of business are you in?" she asked, leaning in towards him and narrowing her eyes at him.

She wasn't sure why she felt so drawn to him. She'd talked to him for all of fifteen minutes, and yet she'd longed to talk to him again ever since she walked away.

Maybe it was the way his eyes softened when he looked in her direction. She'd noticed the way he looked at all the others in the casino; eyes murky and cast downward whenever he passed someone making it obvious he had no desire to speak to them. Or maybe it was the crinkle in them when he smiled at her. She could tell right off that he was a man who didn't show his emotions; prohibiting grins and laughter.

But he had spoken to her in a gentle voice, his eyes illuminated with curiosity and amusement. The good kind of amusement-where he wasn't laughing _at _her. And he'd even smiled, lips turned upward, his face filled with pure delight.

It also couldn't help that he was easily the most attractive man in the room. Dazzling eyes, gorgeous short blonde hair, and he filled out a tuxedo in a way that most men dreamed.

And he was talking _to her_.

"What kind of business am I in?" he repeated her question, swirling his drink around in his hand, his hand still on her knee. "That depends on who you're asking."

"I'm asking you," she replied, sliding her hand over his. His skin was so rough beneath hers and she got the distinct impression that he was a man who worked hard for a living.

His eyes widened at the touch of her hand on his and he moved to link his fingers in hers, but she brushed his hand away before he could.

"If you're sitting here," she said, leaning towards him. "I expect you to play cards."

"I suppose I can't feel too bad taking your money seeing as you went about winning it by cheating," he replied, pulling chips from his pocket and laying them on the table.

"You're awfully presumptuous," she muttered, turning back to her stack of chips. She watched as he pulled more from his pocket, until his stack equally matched hers.

He was such a man.

"Do you know how to count cards?" Jason asked bluntly in a low voice, eyeing the dealer as he shuffled cards.

Elizabeth picked up her glass of champagne, taking a long sip to buy her time. She wondered if there was a right or wrong answer. She could lie, but if he had been watching her, he already knew the truth.

"You'll just have to take your chances," she murmured, her eyes darting from Jason to the dealer.

He shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his lips as their cards were dealt. She was relieved when he didn't call her out, making a big spectacle of it all. She knew that all the men she'd just swindled out of their money wouldn't be so apt to let it go.

"Hm," he muttered, furrowing his brow when he looked down at his cards.

She looked over him, trying to read his expression, but she knew so little about him that it was difficult. Not to mention, it was easy to get in lost in the cut of his jaw line, the intensity of his eyes, and the way his lip twitched upward while he contemplated his next move.

His shoulders tensed momentarily, but he quickly relaxed, settling back in his chair as he met the dealer's eye. She briefly wondered if he had an actual physical flaw, his eye catching hers as she stared at him.

No, she concluded, he definitely didn't have one.

"I called," he said, leaning towards her, looking confused.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she murmured, rubbing her hand over her neck in embarrassment when she realized she hadn't even looked at her cards.

She glanced at his cards. He had an Ace of Spades turned upward and the dealer had hit him with Four of Clubs. Great, she told herself, looking at her sad Ten of Hearts. She slid her slender fingers over the card, sliding her thumb beneath it. It was hard not to fight her grin when she saw the Jack of Diamonds. Looking back at the table, she moved to double his bet after motioning to stay, and he sighed with surprise beside her.

"You sweating over there under that fancy collar?" she asked, sitting back in her seat feeling pleased with herself.

"I don't sweat," he replied, nodding to the table when he called her bet, then nearly tripled it. "But I wouldn't mind you seeing you sweat."

She bit her lip, looking down at her cards when she felt herself blushing. "Too bad you probably never will," she murmured, calling his bet, but not raising it.

"You said probably, so I must still have a chance," he replied, nodding towards her chips. "And you didn't raise, that's a sure sign of weakness."

"Or maybe I don't want to feel too guilty when I take your money," she said smugly, finishing off her glass of champagne.

She rested her chin in her hand as the dealer flipped the cards over.

"Shit," she muttered, gritting her teeth in annoyance when the dealer flipped over her Jack of Diamonds and his Six of Hearts.

_Twenty-one. _

Asshole.

"Oh, not so cocky are we now," Jason replied, mocking her previous smug tone. "You just never know when the cards are going to turn."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, tossing down her chips to buy in, and refused to meet his smirking face. She could feel his eyes on her face, tracing over her profile, then down over her chest. Sighing as if she were bored, she waved the dealer to hit her without even looking at what card she had flipped over.

"A true gambler," he muttered beside her, raising his bet. "Or rather a true counter."

"Better than just being an asshole," she said, tipping her head to the side, still resting it in her hand. She was determined to do her damnedest to ignore him. Sliding her thumb under card, she saw a Two of Diamonds, which added up to seventeen with her other two cards.

Great, she was going to lose again and he was probably going to proclaim himself the best blackjack player in history.

"Ooo," he said, wincing beside her when the dealer revealed he had nineteen.

She just waved her hand nonchalantly, refusing to let him know he was getting under her skin when all she really wanted to do was smack him upside his head. Or in his face-just like she had done his little friend.

And so the next several hands went like that; Jason taking Elizabeth's money, muttering smugly under his breath and growing annoyed that she wasn't giving him any kind of response.

Eventually, other men sat down one by one at their table, no longer intimidated by Elizabeth. It was as if Jason's presence overshadowed hers and they were simply humoring her by sitting down and playing with her.

God, she _really_ hated men.

She'd allow him to throw her off track and soon she'd lost count of the cards. No doubt he'd done that intentionally, boosting his own ego in the process. So, she sat back in her seat, observing the other men as they all took their turns, sipping a glass of champagne a waiter that she'd managed to snatch from a passing tray.

She'd learned her poker face from her father, who had taught her how to watch a player's face and their body language to determine what they held in their hands. He'd also taught her to count cards, blackjack proving to be the most difficult for her. She'd spent hours as a kid with stacks of card decks, shuffling and dealing, until she had it down pat. And sadly, she'd only done it only to get some kind of approval from her father, but hey, at least it was paying off now.

The man opposite from her had no idea whatsoever how to play and if it wasn't for the guidance of the man sitting next to him, he'd most likely be completely broke at this point. She was sure they were in some kind of deal to share their winnings-too bad there wouldn't be any. Neither of them raised at the right time, let alone paid much attention to anyone else's cards.

The third man at the table was wearing a terribly crooked bow tie that was screaming to be straightened. His ways of playing were about just as crooked. No doubt, he somewhat knew how to count cards, but would have been better off at a different table. There were so many cards here to keep up with and it was throwing him off.

And then there was Jason, who'd barely acknowledged the other men when they sat, and yet they all seemed vying for his attention. He kept his eyes fixated on his cards and occasionally her, checking mostly to see if Elizabeth was staring at him, which most of the time she was. She noticed the way his eyes swept across the table, then glanced up at the dealer, then back down at the cards. Every move he made seemed so carefully articulately, just as Elizabeth's were.

She folded, knowing that the dealer was going to flip up a low card to the first man, a face card to the second, and she suspected-just a gut feeling-an ace to Jason. The third man had already busted.

Sure enough, the first man got a Five of Hearts, only to fold. The third man got a King of Spades to go along with his matching Six. And Jason got an Ace of Diamonds, a pleasing grin spreading immediately onto his lips. He wagered high, flashing a smug look to the other man.

Oh, the nerve of that son of a bitch, she thought to herself, her eyes widening in disbelief. He was just as guilty of counting as she was.

"Elizabeth," Jason said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

She jumped at the touch, then shrugged his hand off her bare shoulder. "Sorry, I was just uh-"

"Just what?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Thinking about how I'm going to win my money back," she spat, glaring at his ever growing pile of chips, more than half that he'd collected from hers.

"Are you feeling lucky?' he asked, leaning toward her, completely disregarding the other men at the table.

"I have a hundred bucks," she said with a frown as she smacked her chips together. "Thirty minutes ago, I had about two thousand. How do you think I'm feeling?"

"Two thousand dollars that you won by cheating," he replied, daring her to argue with him. "So, you may want to recount your losses."

He glanced at the other men at the table when he noticed their irritation with him slowing the game. With one look, the three of them retreated hurriedly, and Elizabeth couldn't understand why.

Satisfied that they were leaving, he turned back to her, "But I am willing to help you win it back." He gave her a mischievous grin, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to win the money back.

"If you want me to show you my boobs," she replied, narrowing her blue eyes at him, "that is so not opening."

He grinned, his eyes dipping to her chest, and she had to fight yet another urge to smack him upside his head. "While I appreciate the thought, I had something else in mind," he said mysteriously.

She held her hands over her chest, blocking her cleavage from his wandering eyes and sat back. "I'm not sure I even want to know," she replied, trying to fight the desire to smile.

"All or nothing," he said, holding his hand up and motioning at his stack of chips. "You win, you get all of yours and mine, which is a little over four thousand dollars."

"And if I lose?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him. "I'm seriously not going to show you my boobs."

"I'm not going to pay you to show me your bo-" He paused, stumbling over the word.

"Boobs," she offered, tilting her head and half smiling flirtatiously. He almost looked embarrassed, so she said it again.

"Elizabeth-"

"What? Are you not a boob guy?" she asked, laughing softly to herself.

"I like them very much," he replied, refusing to say the word. "But I don't pay women to take their clothes off."

"Oh, you mean they just rip them off for you?"

He grunted, rolling his eyes. "I didn't mean it like-"

"Anyway, so what's your wager?" she interrupted, eyeing his stack of chips. Yanking his chain was not as fun as taking his money. "I want to win my four grand back."

"You're awfully sure."

"Well, I'm better than you."

"Are you judging from your losses?" he asked, nodding at her measly two chips.

"What. Is. Your. Wager?" she asked slowly, growing annoyed.

He seemed to feel the need to draw every interaction out and it was rather exhausting. She wanted to get her money and leave, and now that she was back on track she knew she could.

"You lose," he said hesitantly, "and you come back to my room and have a drink with me."

"A drink?" she asked, rolling her eyes. She bit her lip, torn between losing on purpose and winning her money and walking away with her pride. She decided to go for the dramatics, hoping he would drop the offer entirely. "If you get me drunk, I still won't show you my boobs."

"I don't want to see your damn-"

"What's wrong with my boobs?" she asked, looking down at her chest. He laughed at her, but not in that you're being ridiculous kind of way. Instead he seemed to be rather endeared by her antics. "Seriously. My boobs-"

"Are perfect," he cut in and she blushed, looking away instantly.

He was humoring her, which should have annoyed her, but he'd been looking at her chest enough to know.

"I pay you a compliment and you-"

"Deal us in, please," she interrupted, leaning forward to glance at the cards that were on the table. Shifting her eyes to Jason, she looked at him intently. "Four grand, huh? A drink with me is worth that much?"

"I'd pay more," he replied seriously and she shook her head as she looked down at her cards.

She had an Ten of Spades flipped upwards and her other card was a Jack of Hearts. Glancing at Jason's hand she saw a Queen of Diamonds. If she was on the right track, the dealer would hit him with another face card. The only question was what he had hidden beneath his other hand. She was almost positive that it wasn't a ten or higher, but she could never be quite sure.

Especially when Jason seemed so sure that he could win.

"Stop," he said, shaking his head at her.

"I am not doing anything," she replied, motioning to stay.

She wasn't surprised when Jason did also.

"Well, I suppose this is it," he said, nodding at the dealer to turn their cards over.

Elizabeth squealed softly, sitting back in her chair with a happy grin when the dealer flipped a Nine of Clubs over besides Jason's Queen. She had won. And judging from the look on his face, he honestly hadn't expected her to.

Moving to her feet, she leaned in front of him, swiping all his chips away. "Oh, you just never know when the cards are going to turn," she mocked, sneaking a glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"That's not fair," he replied, and she could have sworn he almost looked sad.

"Here's a tip," she murmured, leaning in close to his face. "Maybe the next time you should challenge someone who doesn't count cards better than you."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"I won't say I told you so," Johnny murmured, moseying over to the poker table and sliding into the seat Elizabeth had just been in.

"Then don't," Jason replied flatly, tightening his grip on his short glass of whiskey.

He'd sat down at the blackjack table expecting to play her, not the other way around.

Sure, he'd been watching her count cards for the last forty-five minutes; noticing the way she flashed a bemused smile or shifted in her seat, her hand tugging at the steep neckline of her dress, directing her opponents attention elsewhere. Every man fawned over her, especially with their eyes, incapable of focusing on what cards were being played.

Hell, they were fortunate if they could even add them up.

She'd forced every man at the table to distraction and they'd each left disgruntled and annoyed that a woman had outwitted them. She simply sat back, collecting their chips, an all too pleased smile on their face, each man no longer wanting to sleep with her; they only wanted to wring her neck.

And somehow Jason had managed to become one of them.

Okay, he still wanted to sleep with her.

_Maybe. _

He'd meant it when he said he simply wanted to share a drink.

Well, maybe he did.

Cause if she wanted to show him her boobs, he sure as hell wasn't about to stop her.

"You want a tissue?" Johnny piped, smacking him in the arm.

"Fuck off," Jason hissed, bringing his glass to his lips. He took a long drink, swirling the liquor around in his mouth before swallowing it.

She was walking away, the poker chips she'd _stolen _tucked safely beneath the crook of her arm, in her now heavy beaded bag. His eyes lingered on her back, her loose curls splayed over her the skin of her creamy shoulders. He'd never wanted to touch a woman so badly in his life, especially one who had managed to get under his skin this badly.

He waiting patiently, watching her maneuver through the small crowds. Her lips moving, most likely murmuring excuse me's, but then again, she didn't seem like the type of woman who asked people to move.

No, she merely expected it.

She paused long enough to grab a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray, then continued her slow, but seemingly determined movement across the room. He couldn't help but wonder if she was simply trying to put distance between him, which he would have taken as a good sign. Distance meant she needed to stay away from the fire; that she wanted him as badly as he did her.

So he waited for her to acknowledge him.

Surely she felt his eyes on her just as she had earlier in the evening. He grew impatient when it became apparent that she really was putting a great distance between them, but still he waited. Her head bobbed between crowds, her tiny frame disappearing between a group of men and women who were talking all too loudly.

And it was only after several excruciating long minutes that he realized she wasn't going to look back.

"Seriously, you gonna boil her rabbit?" Johnny quipped, shaking his head disdainfully at Jason's saddened face.

"Rabbit? She has a rabbit?" he asked, flicking his eyes to Johnny's. It took him a second to _really _process his question. "Wait. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Fatal Attraction," he replied, scowling at him. "Seriously, study your pop-"

"Why would I boil-" He stopped mid-sentence, looking away in disgust. It was a waste of time to respond to Johnny when he was like this.

"You're totally becoming Glen Close," he continued, clucking his tongue in disgust. He glanced at the dealer and pointed at Jason as if to say, _can you believe this guy_.

An hour or so ago, Jason had thought the evening had taken a turn for the better. He imagined he'd steal her away, take her for a stroll on the deck and they could ignore the hoopla that was going on inside. Anything that happened after that was solely up to her. He wasn't going to come onto her heavily, but he wouldn't deny her if she wanted him.

He couldn't help but wonder if there was _anything _he would deny her.

"Go get me some chips," Jason hissed, pulling a thick wad of money from his pocket.

If he couldn't have the night turn out the way he wanted, he was going to sulk about it the best way he knew how; blowing lots of money.

"I am not your bitch," he replied, smacking Jason's hand away. "Get your own damn chips."

He titled his head to the side, peering over at his partner. "Get the fucking chips, Johnny."

"We're partners," he whined, taking the money from Jason's hand and flicking his thumb through it as if it counting. "But it's always about you."

"Cause I was nice enough to make you my partner," he replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he took another gulp from his glass.

"Oh, I forgot. You did me a favor," Johnny said sarcastically, pulling several large bills from the stack. He backed away, waving the hundreds in Jason's face. "Just so you know, I'm keeping these."

"Well, you know where you can put them," he called after him, spinning back to face the blackjack table.

He sat back in his seat, drumming his fingers against the green felt, trying to keep his eyes from sweeping across the room. Shaking his head, he knew that Johnny would take his pretty little time getting the poker chips, probably hitting on every bleached blonde on his way there and back.

"This table open?" came a rugged voice beside him.

Jason tipped his head back and peered up at the slender, brown haired man in a fitted tuxedo. He flashed a smug grin, moving to take a seat before Jason had a chance to answer. Turning towards the table, he immediately began to stack his chips, glancing at the vacant space in front of Jason.

He didn't like him from the flash of his first grin and was heavily considering getting up and leaving him alone at the table.

"All out already?" he asked arrogantly, shaking his head in disapproval. "And the night is still young."

Yeah, he definitely disliked him, but what was to stop Jason from _stealing_ his money and not feeling bad about it?

"Actually more chips are coming," he replied, shifting to pull money from his pocket. He tossed a wad down on the felt in front of him. "I can assure you I'm good for it."

The man's eyes widened and he nodded for the dealer to start. "Still, it's awfully early to get wiped out," he continued as if he needed to put Jason down in some way.

"You're telling me," Jason replied, sliding his hands over the cards. He had a Five of Diamonds flipped up and a Two of Spades face down. Total shit. "I guess you could say that I got played all too well."

He grunted, his eyes lighting up. "A woman, huh?" he asked, scooting the cards towards the dealer in a fold.

"Something like that," he replied shortly, having no desire for small talk.

He only wanted to empty him out and head back to his room. He couldn't take this scene tonight.

"You mean there's a tough one here?" he asked, glancing around the room.

Jason knew he was sizing up the women in the same way that Johnny did, but something about him doing it was really annoying. It was as if he expected these women to sleep with him, whereas Johnny at least went in knowing he barely had a chance.

"Who wants something that's easy," Jason murmured, leaning back in his chair.

The man raised his eyebrows at him and Jason figured he was the kind of guy who _needed_ easy.

He craned his neck, looking for Johnny. He could use his snide comments and so-called wit to shut this guy up. His eyes bounced from woman to woman, figuring that was where Johnny would be. He even glanced towards the bar, figuring he was buying the most expensive drink on Jason's tab, and was surprised that he wasn't there.

But _she_ was.

Sitting on the edge of a bar stool, her legs crossed to reveal the silky skin of her legs. His desire to touch her, just _once_, was outweighed by his need to simply be near her. She looked positively bored, a tight lipped frown on her face, her chin propped up in her palm. He could think of plenty of things to do that would turn that frown right side up.

"Hey pal, you gonna play?" his opponent asked agitated, jabbing him in the shoulder.

He turned back to him, his eyes narrowed.

Jason Morgan did not like to be jabbed.

_Ever. _

Glancing back towards the bar, he reconsidered.

He'd let her jab him anytime.

"I'm in," he murmured, not bothering to look at his cards.

He muttered a nasty sounding reply, but Jason didn't hear him. He was almost thankful because it was already taking him everything he had not to pummel the stupid fuck. It would have been a hell of a lot simpler had the man just handed over his chips and walked away.

But no, he was so sure he was going to win.

He clearly had no idea who he was up against.

Jason Morgan _always _won.

He called another bet, still too busy staring at her to pay much attention. He sucked in a breath when she lifted her eyes to his. They weren't sparkling as they had been before, they seemed to droop, somewhat sad. Yet they were still the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

"Are you gonna play-"

Jason grunted, turning back to the man with a seething glare. He quieted immediately.

"Look, I can probably find you some hot blonde to make you forget about whoever-"

"I don't need _you_ to find me a woman," he interrupted, raising his eyebrows at him. He could only imagine the kind of women this man took to bed. "I was looking for-"

"Here's your damn chips," Johnny spat, his arm sliding between the two men and dumping the chips in front of Jason. He glanced at the other player, looking confused. "Well, he's not as pretty as she was, but hey to each his own."

"Watch it," Jason warned, holding his hand out for his change.

"Whoa, the rest was my tip," he replied, stepping back and holding his hands up.

He stiffened, rubbing his palm against his face. Dealing with Johnny was like dealing with a diabetic five year old in a candy store. No matter the reasons for telling them no, they still didn't understand.

"Just get the fuck away," Jason spat, catching his opponents eye who seemed somewhat taken back by Jason's authority.

"You have fun with your new boy toy," he hissed, running away before Jason had the chance to even turn around.

"Son of a bitch," Jason muttered, smacking his hand against the green felt. He was going to fire Johnny O'Brien. Stupid piece of shit.

"Never can find good hired help," the man murmured, forcing a smile at Jason.

Jason raised his eyebrows at him, his face breaking into a smile. It was hard to hide his amusement about Johnny, a man who had never worked hard a day in his life, being hired help. Jason regretted his smile almost instantly though because it seemed to signal to the man that they were friends or acquaintances.

Both were things that Jason Morgan didn't often acquire.

He started to make another crack, but Jason cut him off. "Let's just play some cards," he said seriously, glancing back at the bar, shaking hi head when he saw that she was gone.

"Good, I'm ready to take your money," he replied, flashing that stupid smug smile.

He was sure he'd end up pummeling him.

And if he didn't, he'd get Johnny to do it for him.

"Yeah," he replied flatly, smacking the table as he waited for the dealer to toss out their cards.

Thankfully he picked up on Jason's annoyance and sat back, his eyes cast down on the table as they played the next several hands.

All of which Jason won.

He wouldn't lie. It felt good to wipe that smug grin off his face.

He continued to check the bar, expecting her to appear again. If she was as bored as she looked though, there was a chance that she'd gone back to her room. And he definitely wasn't going to hunt down her room number because that would mean Johnny was probably onto something with that Fatal Attraction bit he kept spewing.

He lost the next couple of hands just because he didn't feel like playing anymore. He'd lost his drive and was close to going back to his room himself. He turned to his opponent, ready to tell him he was bowing out when he saw her approaching the table.

Her eyes widened briefly when she met Jason's and she looked away so quickly that he couldn't read her expression. She looked worried? Embarrassed? But none of that matter seeing as she was seeking him out again. He'd have to make sure she knew there was no reason she had to feel uncomfortable about doing that.

She slowed down as she neared the table, her eyes darting from Jason to the man next to him and she seemed unsure of what to do. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Jason one last time before sliding onto the seat next to his fellow player. She cleared her throat, attempting to garner some attention. His opponent tipped his head towards her, rolling his eyes when he saw. She scowled, tightening her grip on her bag.

She chewed her lip as if contemplating what to say, then leaned forward. "Lucky, I want to go."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Elizabeth tightened her hands around her small bag, her sparkling ocean eyes lingering on Lucky who obviously didn't give a damn about what she was saying.

"Lucky," she repeated softly, stiffening when Jason's eyes landed on her. "I said I want to go."

He scowled, folding another hand and turned to Jason giving him an apologetic look. "Women," he muttered, rolling his eyes before turning back to her. "Elizabeth, baby, come on."

"Don't baby me," she said, raising her eyebrows at him. She snuck a glance at Jason from the corner of her and he could see that she was embarrassed that he was watching them. "I'm tired. I want to go back to the room."

"Then go," he said flatly, tossing a chip back and forth between his hands. "I'm not ready."

She nodded, pursing her lips tightly together. "I guess you don't owe me anything," she murmured, moving to her feet. She smoothed one hand down the front of her dress, then moved it to the back of her neck and rubbed it uncomfortably.

Jason cleared his throat, turning away from them, feeling as if he were watching something he shouldn't be. He craned his neck, searching for a waiter, desperate for another drink.

He did his best to ignore what was going on beside him, but it was difficult not listen in, especially considering now he really despised the man that was sitting next to him. He had a date, not just any date, but the most beautiful woman in the room. He'd sat down all smugly beside Jason, acting as if he were out to sleep with half the women in the world.

Actually, he _expected_ half of those women to sleep with them.

No wonder she'd spent the better half of the evening perusing the room all by her lonesome, only to end up flirting with Jason. She'd been bored and alone, her date far too clueless to realize what he had beside him.

"…You are such an asshole…"

"Whatever…Fortunate enough that I brought you tonight…"

"Oh, this was a favor…Remember what I told you before…"

"…You need to loosen up…"

"You need to get a _fucking_ clue, Lucky Spencer…"

Jason couldn't help but smile when he'd heard the word roll of her tongue. It sounded almost dirty, but full of spite, like she meant it. And for some reason, the thought of her just giving it to the asshole really turned him on. Though when he thought about her giving it to him, he was annoyed.

Did she really have to give _it _to someone like _that_?

"…Go back to the room alone. That's what you want anyway…"

She laughed sarcastically. "I sure as hell don't want you…"

"…Whatever honey…"

"Been there, done that, Spencer," she spat, leaning towards him. "And to tell you the truth it wasn't all that good."

"…Oh, that's not what you-"

He was caught off by her hand colliding into his face. "Don't you ever talk about me like that you son of a bitch," she hissed, her eyes blazing with fury.

She shot Jason one last look, her eyes filled with embarrassment and apology, then turned to hurry off. Lucky moved quickly, jumping from his seat and grabbing her by the arm.

Jason shook his head, his hatred for his opponent deepening. They didn't strike him as one of those couples who fought for the sake of fighting, only to make up later, usually in bed.

He watched Lucky's grip tighten on her arm, noticing how Elizabeth's face grew flushed with embarrassment. He took a drink from a passing waiter and sat it down on the table, trying to decide if he was really going to get involved.

"Maybe I should introduce you to security," he fired off, pulling her close to him.

"If that means they'll dock this fucking thing and kick me off then please do so," she replied, attempting to shake him off.

When he didn't buckle she raised her knee, driving it in between his legs. "Asshole," she spat, shoving him away when he loosened his grip. She glanced at Jason again, forcing a tight lipped smile his way, her soft eyes telling him a thousand different things.

Jason couldn't decide if she was more so embarrassed or annoyed that he'd discovered she not only had a date, but a very rude one at that. He almost wondered if she'd approached knowing there'd be a fight; if she was one of those women who wanted him to step in and save her. Then again, she'd done that perfectly on her own.

No, she was definitely not a woman who needed to be saved by any man.

Lucky groaned, holding a hand over his face as he turned back to Jason. "Women," he muttered, forcing a painful smile at him when she finally stalked away, muttering obscenities under her breath.

Jason grunted, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a long drink. He glanced around Lucky to see Elizabeth stalking across the room, her head hung. He thought about going after her, but figured she'd only pushed him away. Besides, if he wasn't going to get a chance to be around her in anyway, he could always make her awful date miserable.

"You ready to get back to the game?" Lucky asked, voice filled with annoyance at being belittled like that in front of him.

Yeah, Jason definitely wanted to take _every_ penny he could from him.

Too bad for him that Jason had enjoyed every second of it. "She uh-she seems like a good catch," he murmured, looking down at his pile of chips.

He grunted, shaking his head. "Far more trouble than she's worth," he spat, stacking his chips. He patted the table and motioned for cards to be dealt.

Jason's jaw tightened and he threw in for the blind, tipping his head towards Lucky. "She's a firecracker that's for sure."

"She acts like a five year old child," he spat, looking at Jason curiously as if he were wondering why he were so interested in his date.

No, _you're _the five year old, he thought to himself, glancing briefly at his cards.

He tilted his head back, looking in the direction that she'd fled, and was saddened when he saw no sight of her. He wondered where she was going; if she would actually go back to the room or go back to moseying around the room, finding someone _else _to flirt with.

He really wanted to be the only one she was flirting with.

"You're turn," Lucky said flatly, following Jason's gaze.

Jason folded, finding it hard to concentrate when he could only think about wanting to strangle the man sitting next to him.

"She uh, she's the one that took my money," Jason confessed as they were dealt another hand.

Lucky was silent for a couple of hands, jealousy written all over his face. Jason almost felt guilty, so he let him win a couple of hands, thinking it would be nice to build the man up before he knocked him down.

"What? Did you let her?" he asked curiously, a smug grin on his face when he took another pile of winnings from Jason. "Did you think that you'd get laid?"

Jason clenched his fist, resting it against the edge of the table. He glanced around, this time for Johnny. He'd need his best friend to clean up this mess by the time the night was over.

"I wasn't aware she had a date," Jason replied, chewing his lip as he looked thoughtfully at his next hand. He didn't have to see Lucky's face to know that in the man's eyes that didn't make it any better. "But I also know that she wouldn't go home with me if I begged her too."

He raised the bet, sitting back in seat and threw a smug grin Lucky's way that rivaled the ones he'd been tossing towards Jason all night.

"That doesn't mean you weren't going to try," Lucky said, matching Jason's bet.

Jason shrugged, then nodded. Hell, just twenty minutes ago, Lucky'd been talking about finding another woman to take home for the night. He wasn't going to lie to Lucky Spencer, anymore than he wouldn't deny if it was in his control, she sure as hell wouldn't be going anywhere near him.

"Perhaps if you paid better attention," Jason murmured, leaning over the table as the dealer flipped their cards.

"What's the point when it's not getting me anywhere," Lucky replied, following it with a loud string of curse words when the dealer revealed that Jason had twenty-one.

"You just never know when the cards will turn," he said, reaching out to draw his pile of chips in, thankful that he'd never broken the bad habit of counting cards.

Lucky scowled, his lips turning in a pout, and much to Jason's dismay-just as Jason started to enjoying picking at him, he remained quiet for the next six or seven hands.

"Well, well, well," came a voice behind them. "The boys club still going at it?"

Jason shook his head, not bothering to look in Johnny's direction. "What's wrong? Not finding anyone to hold your interest long enough?" he asked, not raising Lucky's bet.

He didn't want to take his money _too _fast. He wanted it to be slow and painful.

"You know these ladies," Johnny replied, sliding into the seat next to Jason. "They want you to work for it and that's boring. Damn ice queens."

"Tell me about it," Lucky murmured, his face lighting up when the dealer flipped their cards and he actually won a hand.

Jason shot Johnny a look, telling him to drop the subject. He knew that Lucky wasn't referring to any of Johnny's women as ice queens.

No, he was talking about Elizabeth, and that didn't sit right with him at all.

"My friend here doesn't get it," Johnny continued, ignoring Jason's eyes. "You know, I'm just trying to have a good time, buy a lady a drink, maybe take a walk…Back to my room, but hey, is there anything wrong with that?"

Jason scowled, smacking his hand against the table when he noticed just how small Lucky's pile had gotten. He was ready to take his money and get the hell away from him before he pushed Jason's buttons more than he already had.

"They think you should just bend over and give them the world," Lucky agreed, staring at his cards for a second.

"Johnny O don't bend for nobody," he replied, placing a hand on his chest. "And all I'm giving a woman is a free ride-a free drink if she's nice."

Jason shook his head, covering his face in his hands. He often wondered why he was friends with Johnny; he always had his back, he could shoot almost as well as Jason, and he always kept the refrigerator stocked with beer.

_Anyone _could do those things and talk a lot less while doing it.

"No woman comes with a free ride," Lucky quipped, raising the bet again, pausing when he realized he was practically out of chips. "Ah, shit." He moved in his seat to slip some money from his back pocket and held it across Jason. "Think you could get me some chips, pal?"

Johnny raised his eyebrows and stared down at Lucky's hand. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked, looking at Jason as if to say _who the fuck is this guy. _

"You work here," Lucky replied, shaking the money at him. "And you got them for my friend-"

"For _your _friend?" he interrupted, tilting his head towards Jason. "You are friends with _this guy_?"

Jason wanted to point out that Johnny was the one trading bed side manners with him, but instead he just looked down at his cards.

Johnny smacked Lucky's hand away. "I don't fucking work here, _pal_," he replied hastily. "I night as well fucking own the place."

Lucky's eyes widened and Jason was amused that this was the second time in the last thirty minutes someone had hit him. Jason was sure that at one point one of them was going to throw a punch.

"And I got _my_ friend here fucking chips because his panties are in a twist," he spat, narrowing his eyes at Lucky. "Some stupid broad took all his fucking money and he's pissed cause he wanted to fuck her."

Jason groaned, leaning against the blackjack table on his elbows, his face in his hands. He did not want to _fuck_ her, but that was something that a man like Johnny O'Brien would never understand. Sex may have crossed his mine briefly when he laid his eyes on Elizabeth, but he wasn't one to use and abuse the way that Johnny-and apparently Lucky did also.

He wanted to look at Lucky to see the expression on his face, but he couldn't. Cause had he been Lucky Spencer and someone said that to him about his date, he'd pummel them.

Then again, Lucky Spencer wasn't Jason Morgan by far.

"Did that happen to you?" Johnny asked as if he were making some grand point.

He was definitely going to fire Johnny come the next work day or hell, maybe even by midnight. This broke their code of conduct, _if you could call what they lived by that_, in some way and Jason was going to make damn sure that Johnny paid.

"No, it didn't," Lucky replied in a small voice, his eyes shifting to Jason, who hand dropped his hands from his face and was staring down at the green felt table.

He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt as he sat back and took another long drink of bourbon.

This was turning out to be a very bad night.

"Why the long faces folks?" Johnny asked, slapping Jason on the shoulder. "Between me and your _pal _here, we can find you a hot piece of ass."

Lucky grunted, narrowing his eyes at Jason. "No, he only wants one woman," he replied smugly. And with a shrug he added, "Too bad you can't have her."

"Hey now," Johnny said, pointing at him. He motioned at the empty space in front of him where his chips had been. "Don't go getting too big for your britches because it's not like your broke ass is picking anyone up." He stopped and glanced a Jason, briefly aware of his grim expression. "Then again, having money doesn't get you anywhere."

"I have money," Lucky replied, still staring Jason down. "And unlike you're friend here, I'm sure I won't be going home alone tonight."

Jason's jaw tightened and he ran a hand over his pile of poker chips. Usually such a towering win would allow him to walk away feeling as if he'd had the upper hand, but tonight he definitely losing.

"So, it seems like you've ended up the winner after all," Jason said, holding up his hands in a gracious defeat. He reached for his glass, polishing the rest off in one drink, just as an idea flashed through his mind.

It was something he'd have to credit Johnny O'Brien with later, so maybe he wouldn't fire him. Only his experiences with Johnny and his God awful influence would be the only excuse Jason had for the next sentence that came out of his mouth.

"Or maybe you could put your money where your mouth is, Spencer," Jason said coyly, lowering his empty glass to the table.

When Lucky gave no reply, Jason decided he may need further encouragement. "I'm willing to go double-Actually triple," he continued, shifting in his seat to pull out a large wad of bills.

Lucky eyed him suspiciously, glancing between he and Johnny. "For…?"

"I think you know what for," Jason replied, tossing the wad of money down on the table.

He almost hated himself for how sleazy he sounded; literally turning the man's date into a wager, but it was bait that a man like Lucky Spencer would surely bite.

"Hell, if you're not going to take the bet," Johnny cut in, staring down at the pile of money on the table, "I sure as hell will."

"Shut up, Johnny," Jason snapped, holding his hand out at him. He turned his head back to Lucky. "So, what do you say? Feeling like a winner tonight?"

"Well, his statistics would show that's a negative," Johnny quipped, shoving Jason's hand away from him.

Lucky shifted in his seat, his eyes dipping down at the money on the table. Jason could see him starting to foam at the mouth over the money and was sure that he was stalling only to appear a better man than he was.

"What if I lose?" Lucky asked, chewing his lip.

"I break your kneecaps cause from the look on your face you don't have the money to cover it," Johnny replied, sitting back and folding his arms. "And I just love breaking kneecaps."

"Shut the fuck up," Jason growled, his attention remaining on Lucky. "Nothing happens. You get up and walk away…"

Lucky raised his eyebrows, his eyes filled with contemplation.

"And," Jason continued with a sly smile, "you send Elizabeth in my direction."

"Elizabeth," Johnny said flatly, glancing between them. "You're making a fucking-what is that?" He paused to count the chips and money up in his head. "You're making a fucking eight thousand dollar wager on a piece of-" He stopped again, looking at Lucky, an amused smile spreading across his face. "You're her date."

He nodded.

Johnny laughed softly, then broke into snickers.

"Johnny, I'm going to break _your_ fucking kneecaps," Jason warned sternly.

"What? She came with _him_," he replied, shaking his head, a goofy smile still on his face. "And she wants to leave _you_. She already made that clear."

"Oh, is that right?" Lucky snarled, moving to his feet and pointed at Jason. "You're fortunate I don't beat your ass right now."

Jason's eyes went wide and he placed a hand over Lucky's finger. "You should be far more respectful to the owner of the casino you're in, Mr. Spencer," he replied, tightening his grip. He released Lucky's hand, extending his own as if offering to shake his. "Jason Morgan."

"So now are you trying to scare me into playing cards with you?" he asked, his eyes widening when Jason spoke his name and judging from his pathetic grip on Jason's hand, he was scared too.

Jason held his hands up. "By no means," he replied. "I was just asking if you wanted to raise the stakes a little bit. You came here to win money. I came here for-" He paused, trying to remind himself not to grimace when he said it. "I came here for ass, so I say we help each other out…Either choice you make, you walk away a winner."

"Leave now and go back to your date," he continued with a shrug. "Or play a game and win eight thousand dollars and lose your date-Oh, say-" He looked at Johnny intently. "What do you think? For a couple of hours?"

Johnny's brow furrowed, clearing confused by what Jason was doing, which he knew worked to his benefit. Both men were thinking that he only wanted to steal her away for a little roll in the hay, and hey, maybe he did, but he knew it wouldn't come to that.

He simply wanted the satisfaction of knowing she'd walk out those doors on anyone's arms but _his_.

"Or you can lose eight thousand dollars and go back to your date," he finished, then gestured towards the table. "It's up to you."

Lucky eyed the two of them suspiciously. Jason was pretty sure he didn't believe he was the owner of the casino, but the money had reeled him in enough. He really wasn't going to try and scare Spencer into playing with him, though that would have been very valuable too, but more of a Johnny O'Brien tactic.

Then again, this whole thing was straight from his handbook.

"Deal," Lucky said, sitting back into his seat. He kept his eyes on the table, his hands gripping the edge of it.

Jason could see that he was shaking. His fear made no difference because he would win even if Lucky weren't scared.

Both men were silent when their cards came out. Lucky was dealt a Jack of Spades upright, Jason a Queen of Hearts. And something about the hearts made him feel like the cards were on his side. His other card was a Three of Diamonds, definitely not bad, but not good either.

Lucky motioned for a hit, his eyes fixated on his cards.

Jason did the same.

And both men passed the second time.

Leaning back in their chairs, they folded their arms, waiting impatiently on the dealer to flip their cards.

One man cursed loudly and the other grinned, maybe even laughed a little; one surely a fool, the other a thief.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"You did what?" Elizabeth hissed, her icy blue eyes narrowed at Lucky as she stood across from him in the coat room.

"Look, I made a mistake-"

"This isn't a mistake, Lucky," she interrupted, pointing a slender finger at his face. "What kind of fucking idiot are you?"

"It's just a couple of hours," he replied sheepishly, half shrugging as if he didn't know what to do.

"I should have known that you would go and do something so stupid," she said, raising two fingers to either side of her head.

She pressed them against her temples as she paced back and forth in the coat room, her body trembling with fury. She wasn't sure what to do; part of her wanted to laugh it off, while the other just wanted to sit down and cry.

He'd asked her to come with him tonight, practically begged her even.

She told herself from the get go it was a mistake. There was no point in delving into the past all starry eyed and full of wishful thinking, but her heart had gotten the best of her.

She'd gotten all dolled up; bought a new dress, actually put on make up for once. Hell, she'd even shaved her legs, but for what?

To think that she'd actually show up tonight, have him parade her around the room on his arm as if he actually cared about her for once? Or maybe she honestly believed he wanted her with him, wanted to try and smooth out the mistakes of their past? Or even better, that they'd actually go home together at the end of the night and she'd put those shaved legs to use?

Oh, no.

He didn't want any of that.

He wanted to drop her off at the bar, pick himself up a drink, and then scope the room for who would be the easiest woman to take home and get into bed. Apparently he didn't realize the easiest woman would have been the one he'd brought.

God, she really hated herself for coming tonight.

All she wanted was to dress up and feel pretty. Or rather, have him _make_ her feel pretty. He used to be so good at that.

And he used to be a good date.

But that was before he sold her out in a fucking game of blackjack.

"Elizabeth, what was I supposed to do?" Lucky asked, placing a hand on his chest.

"What were you supposed to do?" she asked incredulously, raising her eyebrows at him. "You were my date, Lucky. You don't bet your date in a hand of blackjack."

"You know who he is," he replied as if that somehow justified his actions. "How was I supposed to back down from him?"

Her jaw tightened and she shook her head. "You don't get to use that excuse. I'm sure you didn't know who he was when you started playing with him."

"Just as you didn't know he was when you were throwing yourself at him, right?" he asked indignantly.

She couldn't help but smile, partly because he _almost_ sounded jealous. "You were obviously planning on going home with someone else tonight, why couldn't I?"

"That's not like you."

"And being a self-centered asshole isn't like you either, but hey, it happened," she spat, pushing past him.

He caught her by the hand and pulled her back against him. "You can't just walk away from me like this."

"I'm not walking away," she said, tipping her head back and giving him a stern look. "I'm going to go find Jason Morgan and let him know what I think about the little proposition you gave him."

Lucky grunted, his grip on her loosening a bit. "Honey, I didn't give him the proposition," he replied, his lips forming a satisfied smirk.

Her eyes filled with confusion as she looked back at him. "What?"

"He made the proposition," Lucky replied smugly. When she just stared back, giving little reaction, he took it a step further. "It was Jason Morgan's idea to bet you during a game of blackjack. Not _mine_."

"As if that makes a difference!" she cried, trying to jerk her arm away, but his grip tightened.

She stomped her heel into his toes for the second time that night and pushed him away. "You're such a bastard," she said, loathing the fact that she was _allowing _this to hurt her. "How much money was this about?"

She knew there was so motive behind his antics. And if anything drove Lucky Spencer, it was money.

He was a terrible poker player, always had been. He couldn't bluff if his life depended on, and she was sure that if he drank too much, he wouldn't be able to count past ten.

Then again, everyone was terrible when you knew how to count cards and stay a few steps ahead of them.

Jason _knew_ he could beat Lucky.

Damn him.

Had this been any other circumstance, maybe she would have enjoyed the attention; the idea that he had gone this far to get her alone.

But then again, he was Jason Morgan, which meant that Elizabeth was sure of what he'd want when he got her alone-_If _he got her alone because at this point she couldn't think of a single reason to hold up Lucky's end of the bargain.

"How. Much. Money. Was. This. About?" she asked, her hands clutching the curves of her tiny hips.

He scowled, bending over to wipe at this shoe as if she'd tarnished it in someway by stepping on it. "Does it matter?"

"No, I guess not," she replied hastily, shaking her head. "Because you lost, right?"

His shoulders slumped and he rubbed his hand over his face. "I didn't have a choice, Elizabeth. You know who he is and what he does."

She rolled her eyes at his failed attempt to give her an excuse for what he'd done.

Yeah, she knew who Jason Morgan was. Everyone in town did. Or at least thought they did.

Shady businessman with even shadier business partners. The businesses, mostly casinos, were said to be legit enough, but there were all kinds of rumors about racketeering, money laundering, and off shore accounts.

It was a name to not be crossed, and for some reason, he'd chosen to cross _her_.

This entire evening had been more of a turn on when she had flirted shamelessly, not knowing his last name or what he did for a living. Not to mention the fact that she had all intentions of _never_ seeing him again.

"_And just what kind of business are you in?" _

"_That depends on who you're asking." _

She'd done gone and gotten herself in and over her head.

She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed who he was. Maybe it was his demeanor that caught her off guard; he was kind and gentle, not the rough around the edges man that he was rumored to be. And he'd brought up Italy, catching her hook, line and sinker.

Boy, she really knew how to pick them.

Then again, he'd _picked_ her.

"Elizabeth," Lucky murmured, his eyes pleading with her to do this for him.

"This is completely insane," she replied, shaking her head at him. "You honestly expect me-"

"I don't expect you to do anything, but maybe if you knew who you were throwing yourself-"

"I was flirting, Lucky," she interrupted furiously. "That doesn't mean that I had any intentions of going to bed with him. _I'm not you_."

His eyes flashed with a mixture of remorse and rage. She sure as hell hadn't forgotten about what really happened to drive them apart, and she wasn't about to let him either.

"Fine, don't do it. Who knows what the hell he'll do to me," he said, holding his hands up and shrugging the entire idea off. "I'm sure he's killed people for less."

"Maybe you should learn something from this," she replied, not capable of believing how he was pushing this off on her. She _really_ hated herself for coming tonight. "Don't make bets and promises and you can't keep. You have to pay in the end."

"So this is about some sick revenge for what-"

"This isn't about revenge, Lucky," she cut, staring at him with a hard face. She held up a hand and started to count off on her fingers. "Revenge was setting all your clothes on fire along with her nasty, thong underwear and telling her to be careful that she didn't contract your latest STD. Revenge was telling every girl that walked into Jake's just how tiny your dick is….This-This is just leaving you to lay in the bed you made."

"You're acting crazy," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I can't talk to when you're like this."

She grunted. "Good, because as far as I'm concerned, I don't want to talk to you ever again, Lucky," she said disgustedly. "This isn't even a good joke."

"It's not a jo-"

"No, but you are," she replied, shoving past him, her eyes filling up with tears.

She hurried from the room, wiping her eyes with her fingertips, careful not to smear her makeup. He had already upset her enough she wasn't going to let him completely ruin her night.

"Hey, there, watch-" The voice stopped mid-sentence as she ran smack into him. "Well, actually you can run into me anytime."

She stiffened before she looked up, not needing to see his face. "You," she murmured, tipping her head back.

"Me," he replied, flashing her a toothy grin. "So, you wanna smack me around a little bit? I kind of like it-"

"You would," she cut in, checking her fingertips before any smeared makeup before smoothing her hands over the front of her dress.

She scowled when his eyes dipped, traveling over the curves of her body. "Do I need to remind you that my face is up here?" she asked, placing a finger under his chin and pushing it upward. "Hello?"

"Sorry, you're just so feisty," he replied with a wink. His eyes twinkled when he smiled, which she would have usually found attractive, but it was impossible to like anything about this man.

She rolled her eyes, forcing an over apologetic smile. "I have to go, but if you're here to collect from Lucky, he's in the coat room practicing his famous last words," she said hurriedly as she stepped around him.

"Actually I am here to collect," he called after her. "But not him. Just you."

She halted mid-step, spinning around on her heels to face him. "So not only does Jason Morgan bargain women in poker games, but he sends his lap dog to collect them," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Well, Lassie, you can run along and tell him I'm not playing his game."

He nodded, almost obediently. "That's fine, but it'll be your little boy toy that pays the price," he replied with a frown.

"Why?" she asked simply, folding her arms across his chest. "Why does it matter when there is a slew of women in there who would gladly hop into bed with Jason Morgan?"

He shrugged as if it made no sense to him either, and she had the immediate desire to smack him again. "He likes you, though I can't imagine why with that God awful attitude."

"He talked to me for all of two seconds."

"You know within a half second if you want to fuck a broad," he replied seriously. "According to you he had four times that, so he knows."

She scowled, raising a hand to her face and wiping her fingers firmly against her forehead. This has to be a test of exuberance. Surely, someone was playing an incredibly hilarious prank on her. And soon, she'd see the punch line.

"Do you understand what's wrong with betting your date in a game of poker?" she asked slowly, dropping her face into her hands.

"Did you happen to see your date?" he quipped, stepping towards her.

Her jaw slacked as she tipped her head to the side and looked up at him.

His eyes softened immediately and he almost looked sorry. "You liked him," he said, making a face. He shook his head as if he didn't believe it. "Did you really like _that guy_?"

She cleared her throat, shrugging half-heartedly. "Does it matter?"

"Well, sure it does," he replied, raising his eyebrows at her. "I could call in a couple of favors and get him taken care of."

She tried to fight her grin, but couldn't. "But I'm sure there's a catch, right?" she asked, clearly amused.

"Like going back to Jason's room," he offered, rocking back and forth on his feet.

And she was instantly pissed off again at the mention of the ridiculous bet.

She didn't care how charming, attractive, or enticing Jason Morgan was-The simple fact that he'd made a wager to get her back to his room was wrong in every possible way, especially considering he'd made it with her date.

Sure, she had flirted with him, but that didn't mean he could just take her to bed.

_Stupid man. _

She shifted her eyes back to his friend, who was waiting rather impatiently for her response. _Was he actually taping his foot at her? _

_Stupid, stupid man. _

"Fine," she said, forcing a tight lipped smile his way. She was either absolutely crazy or hell bent on having someone understand why she was so pissed off. "I'll go back to Jason's room."

His face lit up with surprise. "You seriously want me to put in a call about-"

"No," she cut in exhaustedly, holding up her hands. "I just have a few choice words to say to your friend."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Hey Timmy," Johnny murmured, slapping Jason on the shoulder when he opened the door to his room.

He tilted his head in Johnny's direction, his eyes narrowed in a glare of annoyance. He had no idea where Johnny came up with this shit. "What?"

"He's a little taken back by the fact that I've deemed him Lassie," an amused voice spoke up.

Jason turned his towards her, wondering how he failed to realize Elizabeth had been standing right in front of him.

He had no idea how he'd missed her one hip popped to the side, her slender fingers cupping those curvy sides, and those plump lips curved in a mysterious smile. Her head was tilted back, her eyebrows raised, and her eyes were heavy with fury.

Oh yeah, he was in for it.

"Excuse me?" he asked, still not following what she and Johnny had going on.

He lifted his hand to his tie, loosening it from his collar. When it fell away, he popped the top two buttons on the tuxedo shirt, then leaned against the doorway. Her eyes looked him up and down briefly, and it was evident when he caught her, that she was embarrassed.

She was after all supposed to be angry with him for wagering her in a game of blackjack, right? Though none of that made sense to Jason seeing as it was _her date _who actually _took_ the offer.

"I've deemed your little lap dog friend here, Lassie," she replied, crossing her arms across her chest as she stepped towards him, her hips sashaying with every step. She stopped in front of him, pointing a single finger against his chest. "Which makes you Timmy."

His eyes snapped briefly to Johnny's and it was hard to not be amused by the scowl of contempt on his friends face.

"But don't worry, Timmy," she murmured, leaning in and causing his eyes to close with pleasure when he breathed her in.

Vanilla had _never_ smelled so good.

"He didn't have to drag me out of the well," she continued, arching an eyebrow playfully. He would have been confused by her sudden change in demeanor had she not smelled so damn good. "I came willingly."

"With some tricks up your sleeves, I'm sure," he replied, his eyes sweeping over her face, lingering on her eyes.

She smirked, tilting her head to the side. "Of course, especially seeing as you like to gamble so much."

She gave him no time to reply, placing both her hands on his chest and pushing him inside. She glanced over her shoulder back at Johnny.

"Lassie, you don't have to stand guard tonight. I think I can take good care of Timmy," she called out, her voice low and husky.

He wasn't sure if that was more of a turn on, or if the way she slammed the door in Johnny's face, pressing her back up against her, her teething chewing on that plump lower lip beat it out.

"Well, _Mr. Morgan_, I hear you've been a bad boy," she said, shaking her head as she raised her hand, brushing her fingertips across her bare shoulder.

He placed a hand against the door on either side of her head. "And you aren't so innocent yourself, _sweetheart_."

"I guess it's safe to assume that you plan on doing something about that, right?" she asked, arching her back against the door.

Her eyes looked almost curious, but scared as if she didn't know how far she wanted to really take this. She started to press her hips against his, but he moved back, just out of reach.

"Only if you want me to," he replied, taking a deep breath as he looked away from her.

It was hard to look at her when she was in a position that any man would want to take advantage of; leaning sexily against a door, a silk dress hugging every ounce of her creamy skin just the right way, and those damn plump lips that were begging to be kissed.

"I don't think it really matters what I want," she teased, stepping towards him slowly, looking confused when he immediately stepped back.

She stared at him for a second, and he knew she was pondering her next move.

"Or maybe," she continued, stepping around him and walking towards the bed. "Maybe you're the submissive type."

His head whirled around to follow her, his eyes dipping to the way her hips swayed beneath the material of her dress.

He sucked in a breath when she came to a stop at he foot of his bed, lifting her hands to tug at the strap of her dress. It fell away instantly and she shimmied her way out of the dress until it was nothing but a crimson pool at her feet.

She was even more beautiful than he'd imagined; standing there in a strapless lacy black bra and matching underwear. Her hands roved over her creamy skin as if she weren't exactly sure what to do with them.

"Elizabeth," he murmured, his eyes roaming over her body.

"Jason," she replied, in that husky tone she'd used on Johnny.

She turned around and crawled onto the bed, her hips rolling from side to side. When she made it to the middle, she moved to face him, sitting up on her knees.

He wanted to touch her.

Even if it was just _once_.

"Well?" she asked breathlessly. "How-how do you want me?"

He lifted his eyes back to hers when he noticed the hesitance in her voice. The determination and sexiness was gone, replaced by shyness and perhaps even fear.

"You don't have to do this," he said, moving to the end of the bed to grab his tuxedo jacket.

He climbed onto the bed on his knees, wanting to cover her with the jacket, but she snatched it and tossed it to the floor.

"I asked how you wanted me," she repeated, leaning back on her elbows, her legs spreading just a bit.

He sighed, tipping his head back and staring at the wall space above the bed. He didn't mean for this to happen. And sure, he wanted her, but not like _this_.

"I think I get it now," she continued in that breathy tone, poking him in the knee with her stiletto until he looked at her.

"How about this?" she asked, the moment his eyes met hers, flipping over onto her stomach hurriedly, then moving to sit on all fours. "Was I wrong about you being submissive?"

"Elizabeth," he growled, shaking his head, unsure as to why something about this was making _him_ feel humiliated.

"Or maybe you like those really complex positions?" she asked, turning so that she was sitting on her knees and facing him. "You want to tie me up? Gag me? Throw me around a little bit, huh, Jason?"

She sat up on her knees, sliding her hands over his shoulders as she leaned in, stopping only when her lips were just inches from his. "Or do you want to make this some sort of game?…You want me to play the dirty patient and you can be the doctor?"

She held onto his shoulders as she arched her back, tilting her head back until her eyes locked on his. He clenched his jaw, moving his hands behind his back, refusing to join in on her antics.

"Oh, Doctor Morgan," she moaned, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. "I have a problem that needs your undivided attention."

"Stop it," he hissed, grabbing her arms from his shoulders and jerking them away. He shoved her back onto the bed as he moved from the bed. He grabbed her dress, realizing just how thin the material was, and threw it at her. "And put your damn clothes on."

"I'm sorry," she murmured innocently, leaning forward so that she was on all fours again. She looked up at him, batting her eyes. "I didn't realize you had something against doctors….Maybe the schoolgirl and the big, mean teacher? I'm sure I could use a-"

"Stop fucking with me, Elizabeth!" he snapped angrily, snatching his jacket up from the floor. He held it out to her. "And I said put some fucking clothes on!"

When she made no move to take the jacket he moved around her, pulling it over her shoulders and then holding it together in the front. She smacked him away with shaky hands, but he was stronger, pulling her to her feet.

"Put this on," he demanded, prying her arms from her body in an attempt to dress her.

It was only after touching her that he could feel she was trembling. His eyes wandered over her, taking in how badly she was shaking.

She gave way somewhat, allowing him to slide the jacket over her shoulders. When he moved to button the front, the back of his hand grazing over the thin white line against her otherwise flawless skin, she shoved him away.

"Don't," she hissed, her hand covering the scar . "I can dress myself…Anyway, you're supposed to be undressing me."

"What are you doing?" he cried, holding his hands up to show he wasn't going to touch her.

"Well, forgive me," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "I thought that's what a _whore_ was supposed to act like."

"You are not a whore," he replied, knowing at that moment just how upset she was with him.

"Oh, I thought I was bought and paid for tonight," she said, her lower lip quivering.

He could see the tears welling up in her eyes. He couldn't decide what she was more upset over; having been bartered or having ripped her clothes off in front of a stranger.

"How much did you pay him, you son of a bitch?" she asked, tightening the jacket over the front of her as if finally noticing how naked she was. "How much was a roll in the hay with Elizabeth Webber worth?"

"It wasn't like that," he replied seriously, doing his best not to look her in the face and see how badly she was hurt. "Elizabeth, I-"

"Fuck you!" she shouted, her palm striking against his cheek. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

His jaw tightened and he tightened his fists, telling himself she deserved to have this tantrum.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" she cried, placing her hands against his chest and pushing him. "Fucking men! So batted my eyes at you and shook my ass a little bit! Contrary to what you may think, women can shamelessly flirt and not want to hop into bed with a man!"

"And you sure as hell do not wager women in a poker bet, you ass-"

"What about your date?" he cut in, refusing to take the heat for this solely on his own.

That damn bastard had _taken_ the bet.

Why couldn't she see that in way that was worse?

"He told me that the bet was your idea," she hissed, her face tightening. "You knew I was his date. Why the hell would you do that when there was a room full of women who would have gladly gone home with you tonight? And they would have come without a price!"

He shrugged, looking away guiltily, knowing there was no way he could make her understand.

At least not without hurting her more than he already had.

"So, how much was I worth?" she repeated, hands clutching her hips. "How much-"

"Maybe you should go ask your date," he cut in angrily. "Or rather your pimp because contrary to what you may think, Elizabeth, he was the one who took the fucking bet. He chose the money over you, so what the fuck does that tell you?"

Her eyes snapped to his, holding his gaze all too briefly, but long for him to know that his words hit her.

_Hard. _

She nodded, mostly to herself, as she sat down on the edge of the bed, clasping her hands in her lap. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and he knew that she was trying hard not to cry.

God, he had been a real bastard just then.

This was _not_ how the evening was supposed to turn out at all.

Not even close.

"You must think I'm an idiot," she murmured, sniffling as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"No," he replied, crossing the room to kneel down in front of her.

He didn't touch her and she made no move to touch him.

He just wanted her to know that he was there.

That what had happened, her whole show she'd put on the second she closed the door to his room-that it was okay.

"It's okay," she muttered, cradling her face in her hands. "I am the biggest fucking idiot."

"No," he repeated, shaking his head.

That was most definitely _Lucky Spencer_.

Jason contemplated calling Johnny and telling him to break his kneecaps anyway, but he realized that wouldn't make her feel any better.

_That_ and the fact that his cell phone was in his tuxedo Jacket, which she was wearing.

"You're just being nice," she said softly as she sniffled. "Especially since I gave you a free peep show."

"You did hint at that being a possibility earlier this evening," he replied, gently brushing her hair from her face so he could see her eyes.

She grinned faintly, and he was relieved when some hint of sparkle seemed to return to those amazing blue eyes of hers.

He _really_ needed to figure out what that color was.

"Was-Is Lucky your boyfriend?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

She shook her head, causing a few stray curls to fall back into her face. "Well, he was, but we broke up a while ago. He always said I was too cold and frigid, which he used as an excuse to sleep with other women," she admitted as if embarrassed.

Lucky's snide comments at the blackjack table suddenly made sense.

Maybe he would get a message to Johnny at some point tonight.

"I thought coming tonight would be fun…I wanted to live a lie for an evening-pretend that he wanted to be with me again…I thought I'd get dressed up and he'd think I was beautiful and maybe even want me, but-" She paused, raising her eyebrows at him. "I was very, _very_ wrong about that."

She tightened the jacket around her, moving to button the front of it. "And just so you know," she murmured, chewing her lip nervously. "I uh, I've never had sex in a coat closet."

He grinned, almost laughing aloud at her honesty. "I've never had a quickie in a bathroom-" he stopped, still grinning. "Well, at least not with a stranger."

A slow grin spread across her face, but she turned serious seconds later. "I need to know how much."

"Does any amount make it okay?" he asked with a shrug.

"No," she replied, shrugging back at him. "But making the offer isn't any better either."

"Fair enough," he said with a nod as he moved to his feet. He held a hand out to her, relieved when she took it, and pulled her to her feet. "But if you give me a chance, maybe I can explain why I did."

"Oh, you mean it wasn't for sex?" she asked coyly, her lips turning into a playful grin.

He felt good when she smiled at him, mostly thankful she didn't appear to hold his part in it against him.

"I really just wanted that drink," he said, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand that was still in his. Her skin was so soft and warm against his. "And maybe to spend a little time with you."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Her eyes softened and she looked all too pleased with his response. "Then why me?" she asked confused. "When there's a room full of beautiful women out there, why me?"

"Well," he murmured, leaning in, "perhaps, I'll tell you, should you choose stick around for that drink and maybe another game of some kind."

Licking her lower lip, she bit into it again, and he could see her response in her eyes before she answered.

"Another game with you?" she asked, and he could tell that she was pondering what game really implied.

He nodded. "Something you can't cheat at," he murmured, causing her to laugh softly.

"Then it's only fair that you can't cheat either," she replied seriously.

"Does that mean you'll stay?" he asked, frowning when she pulled her hand out of his.

"Depends," she muttered, stepping around him and crossing the room.

"On?"

"Whether or not I get to pick the game."

And now he was left wondering what game actually implied.

He turned to follow her, finding it impossible to not look her over when she standing there all legs in front of him.

She was beautiful in ever possible way.

She picked up a game piece from the board sitting on the edge of his desk and ran her thumb over it.

"Well?" she asked, holding the piece against her face, brushing it almost absentmindedly across her lips.

He sucked in a breath. "To be honest?"

She nodded.

"You know after that whole thing before," he said, tossing his head towards the bed, noticing how her cheeks turned pink. "I'm just relieved to find out you aren't one of those odd fetish people."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"So, now you're trying to get me drunk?" Elizabeth asked, from the doorway of the bathroom where she'd just spent ten minutes getting dressed and telling herself it was okay that she'd stripped down and offered to sleep with a stranger.

And the real kicker?

She had no idea what she would have done had he _actually_ been willing to get into bed with her.

Then again, she wasn't quite sure how to take it that he _didn't _want to.

Jason lifted his eyes to her, a tight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he filled two short glasses with bourbon.

"Well, rumor has it that you're more of a whiskey girl," he replied, picking up the glasses and walking towards her.

She pushed herself away from the doorway, her eyes lingering on his smile. It was mysterious in a way that was almost seductive; as if he didn't let just anyone see it.

"I see that your friend came through," she said, recalling the short list of tidbits she ran off to him earlier that evening.

"At least Johnny's good for something," he replied with a shrug.

She took the glass from him, but didn't take a sip. She felt inebriated enough from the champagne, which was probably why she had walked into his room and taken off her clothes. She didn't even want to think about what whiskey could make her capable of doing.

"Are we gonna play or not, big shot?" she asked, flashing a curious smile at him as she tossed her head towards the desk behind him.

"Why do I get the feeling that you know your way around the board all too well?" he asked, motioning her towards the desk, where an in-progress game of chess was sitting.

She laughed, mostly to herself, knowing she could say the same for him. Chess required thinking several moves ahead, and tonight, they'd both been playing their own version.

"My father taught me," she replied, taking the seat _behind_ the desk.

He raised his eyebrows at her in surprise, and she was amused that he expected anything less, especially when he'd been in control of the night thus far.

And now, it was _her_ turn.

"He also taught me how to count cards," she continued, bring her glass to her lips and taking a tiny swig.

She figured one sip couldn't hurt.

"Your father," he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief.

"He wasn't your typical father," she replied, reaching for the game board. "I hope it's not a problem that I'm disturbing your game."

"Of course not…I play myself from time to time…And I was a few moves away from a stalemate," he said, answering the question that had been waiting on the tip of her tongue.

She was pleased that he hadn't been playing _with_ anyone, though she scolded herself for even thinking about caring.

"Which means you know your way around a board too," she replied, sitting back in her chair after all the pieces had moved back to their places.

"I suppose you could say that I'm good at planning, making the right move…Comes in handy for my job…And day to day life," he said, taking a sip of his whiskey as he stared down at the board. He aimed a finger. "Ladies, first."

"Actually it's white first," she replied, nodding towards his pieces. She refused to let him take it easy on her, which it was clear he was going to try and do.

"Speaking of that," she murmured, as his eyes swept over his pieces, plotting his first move. "What is it that you do exactly?"

His azure eyes flashed to hers, and she could have sworn they darkened briefly, as if ashamed.

"This," he replied, moving spinning a pawn between two fingers before moving it forward two spaces. She furrowed her brow, not sure what he meant. "Casinos…And then some."

"Then some," she repeated, biting her lip as she leaned across the desk and contemplated her first move.

There was no doubt in her mind that he already had his entire game figured out, which meant she had to stay just as focused.

"That could imply anything," she murmured, resting her chin in her hand and staring across at him.

"Or nothing at all," he replied, a furtive grin on his lips.

Oh, _those_ lips.

It was hard to ignore them.

_Those pretty, pretty lips. _

"People say a lot of things," she pointed out, sliding one of her pawns forward two spaces.

"A lot of hearsay, which is mostly shit," he replied, his gaze cast down on the board.

His tone caught her off guard, and she worried that she had offended him, which was the last of her intentions.

Then she reminded herself that if anyone was to be offended here tonight, it was her.

After all, he was the one who had wagered her in a poker game, for reasons he'd yet to explain.

"Fair enough," she muttered, tripping over her words as her mind try to think up a subject change.

He moved another pawn, his eyes shifting to watch her intently. He made her nervous with the way his gaze roamed over her. She chewed her lip, feeling panicked at the idea of losing the game. She had nothing to prove to him, but yet, she felt like he was waiting on something.

They made their next several moves in near silence. The only sound was the occasional sip from one of their glasses or an agitated sigh as they debated their course of action.

Elizabeth's finger lingered over her night, then her rook, and she glanced up to find him watching her curiously.

"What?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

"Nothing," Jason replied, barely shaking his head, a tiny smile on his lips. It was as if he'd discovered something about her, something that even she didn't even take notice of.

She narrowed her piercing blue eyes at him across the desk and leaned forward. "If you're trying to distract me, you're failing miserably."

"I think you're doing just fine being distracted on your own," he replied, winking at her before getting up and crossing the room to refill his glass.

Her eyes followed him, watching him quietly as he poured the whiskey, and turned back to her. She felt her face grow flushed when he caught her looking at him.

"See," he muttered, coming back over to his seat.

She rolled her eyes, staring down at the board, still wavering between using the knight or the rook.

"I don't care for the knight either," he said, taking a sip from his glass.

She attempted to sneak a glance at his side of the board, but of course he saw her. And sure enough, his knights were still in their original place.

"Why?" she asked, deciding on the rook.

She slid it forward several squares, realizing it was the best choice. If she could follow through on her next three moves, she could have his queen. And it was obvious from the way he kept her nestled in the middle of the other pieces, he cherished the queen most.

"It's the one piece that can jump over the other men," he replied, tapping the top of one of his knights with his forefinger.

She was surprised when he moved it forward, and she knew then that he was planning something.

"And let me guess," she said with a smirk as she moved her rook over two squares, "Jason Morgan never jumps over other men."

"Only when they jump first," he replied, sliding his other knight from it's home.

She swore under her breath when she started to move her rook, but realized she was trapped by _his _knights.

"Maybe next time you should try playing chess with someone who isn't better than you," he said, flashing a pearly grin.

And had he not looked so damn good while doing it, she would have been annoyed.

"You want to have a repeat of our previous venture from this evening?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

He laughed nervously, gripping his glass of whiskey in his hand. "I don't think that bets have proven to be very good for our _relationship_."

"Relationship?" she asked, tipping her head to the side as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

He nodded.

"Well, if this is a relationship forming here, I'd say that bets are what it's based on, wouldn't you?" she asked, biting her lip and smiling at him flirtatiously.

She would have kicked herself in the ass for batting her eyes and tossing him a smile, but she was having so much damn fun while doing it.

"Then I suppose it's only fair that you get to make this wager," he replied, his eyes locked on hers.

She knew he was waiting on her to back out, so she figured it was time for her to raise the bar.

"If I win…," she said, drumming her fingertips on her chin as she kept her eyes locked on his.

"If you win," he replied as if it weren't even possible.

She grunted, folding her arms across the desk and leaning towards him. "If I win, you tell me just how much money you offered Lucky…Oh, I'm sorry. How much money you _paid_ him for me."

"I did not buy you," he said defensively, mimicking her pose, and leaning across the desk towards her. "I simply purchased a moment of your time."

"Do you use money to buy everything?" she asked, disgusted by the way he'd just said that.

"Only when it will get me what I want," he replied smugly as he shrugged.

She scowled, rolling her eyes.

He really was such a man.

"And you wanted a drink with me?" she asked, as if it made no sense. She raised up in her seat, tucking her knees beneath her so she could lean further across the desk. "Just a drink?"

He nodded.

"Liar."

"That's awfully presumptuous," he replied, moving to his feet and leaning over the desk so that their faces were just inches apart.

"Men _always_ want more," she said flatly, one hand holding her over the desk, the other clutching her hip.

"And so do women," he replied, his eyes dipping to her lips, then her breasts, and down to the curve of her hips. "They're just too afraid to admit it."

She'd never been so annoyed yet turned on at the same time. It left her torn between hitting him in the face and pulling him across the desk and into her arms.

"You uh, you have to decide," she said, flustered, as she straightened up and stood across from him.

Much to her dismay, he didn't move. He remained bent over the desk, his palms bracing himself above it, those damn piercing eyes on her. Her gaze fell briefly to the open collar of his tuxedo shirt, and his lips curved upward, as if pleased that she were admiring it.

_I'm not_, she told herself, narrowing her eyes at him before taking her seat.

"You have to decide what you want," she said flatly, leaning back in her chair and looking up at him.

He stayed still and she scowled.

"I think you know what I want," he replied, _those _damn lips, still holding _that _damn smile.

Her face grew flushed again and she ran a hand over the back of her neck, looking away from him. "Well, uh, too-too bad you're going-to-to lose," she said, in the most unbelievable way possible.

She was sure he was going to laugh at her discomfort and was honestly surprised when he didn't.

"Then, I guess you'll be finding out how much Lucky Spencer thinks your worth," he replied, finally backing away from the desk and taking his seat. He picked up his glass of whiskey and settled back, all the while staring at her. "I believe it's your turn."

"You're right…It is," she said, taking a deep breath and moving to the edge of her seat. She stared down at the board, every planned movement she had, suddenly gone from her mind.

She moved a pawn forward one space. "There."

Another grin of amusement spread across his face, causing her to be even more annoyed.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied, tapping his finger on his bishop before sliding it across the board and taking the pawn she'd just moved.

"Shit," she murmured, mulling over the option of forfeiting before he wiped the chess board with her.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, flipping the tiny piece around his finger. She lifted her eyes to his. "I know that you like your pawns."

"What?"

"Pawns," he replied, motioning towards her pieces on the board. "They're obviously your favorite."

She couldn't fight her bemused smile. "How do you know that?" she asked, almost feeling exposed.

"You take care of them," he replied, setting her pawn down beside her rook. "You protect them with your other pieces, which I have to admit, I don't understand."

"Because a pawn is weak?" she asked accusingly.

He held his hands up on the other side of the board and sat back in his seat. "They don't get you very far."

"They never go backwards," she said with a shrug, knowing he was right. "Every move has to count, has to be calculated and precise, because they can go far…If you're a good player."

He clucked his tongue and glanced down at the board, then at her pieces he'd gathered at the sides.

"Don't be rude," she cried, flinging the single pawn of his she'd captured across the desk.

"So, I was correct," he said, catching the pawn in his hand and waving it at her mockingly.

"Yes," she admitted, moving another pawn, then motioning for him to take his turn. She reached for her glass, taking a quick sip, mostly to relax. "When I was kid, my father beat me every single time. Usually all I had left were pawns, so I took a liking to them…And they always helped me get my pieces back, well, only because he let me get the piece across the board."

"He sounds a good man," Jason said, toying with his bishop, then sliding it two more diagonal spaces.

"He was," Elizabeth replied, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over her. "We used to have a lot of fun with games, and he was very proud of me when I learned to cheat…" She paused, embarrassed that she considered that her proud paternal moment. "He wasn't the most conventional of parents, I guess."

"Better than mine," he said earnestly. "He was one of those rule with the iron fist kind of men."

It was his turn to be embarrassed when he cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. Her eyes snapped to his in surprise, and she couldn't understand why he'd say something like _that_.

Tension seemed to fill the room, perhaps ghosts of both their pasts; them and their fathers, and neither said anything to clear it.

They remained quiet for several moves, the only sounds coming from the pieces as they moved across the board. She found it hard to pay attention with such an uncomfortable silence, and she longed for him to say something.

Two moves later, he cleared his throat, tugging at his collar again. He murmured something inaudible.

"What?" she asked, and he gave her a blank look, that she was starting to believe was a staple to those around him. "I didn't hear-"

"I said check," he cut in, winking at her as a smug grin spread across his face. He sat back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself. "And I'm fairly sure I'm going to win."

"Well, aren't you just pleased with yourself?" she replied, glaring at the board as she tried to figure out how to save her king.

He shrugged, placing his elbows on the edge of the desk and clasping his hands. "Your time is running out," he pressed, staring down at the board.

She knew he was trying to annoying her, and of course, she was letting him.

"It's so easy to distract you," he mused quietly to himself.

She did her best to ignore him, especially when he started to hum, rocking his glass back and forth in the air.

She stiffened, when she realized what song he was humming. "Are you kidding me?" she asked, scowling in frustration.

"Hmm?" he asked, his humming coming to a stop. He had a twinkle in those damn eyes of his that she was dying to put out.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed and she brought her hand down on the board, shoving it towards him. "How's that for _another one biting the dust_?" she snapped, getting up and stalking away.

She wasn't sure why she so upset with him. Did she really want to know how little Lucky had sold her out for? She was fairly confident it was a price that would break her heart.

She was still amazed at how easily a man could fuck up a good thing.

"And are you seriously a Queen fan?" she cried, coming to a stop in front of the large window that overlooked the water.

They were nearing the shore and for that she was thankful. She wasn't sure if she could take anymore encounters with smug assholes.

"What's wrong with Queen?" he asked, following after her. She spun around, raising her eyebrows at him, and he shrugged. "Johnny."

She rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised that you would pick up doing something that corny from him?"

"It was fitting," he pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Jerk."

"Jealous."

She leaned against the window, her hands on her hips. "Jealous of you?"

"That I beat you," he replied, taking a step towards her. He tilted his head downward, lifting a hand to brush against her arm. "Why do I get the feeling you're used to getting your way?"

"I get my way because I'm right," she said spitefully, frustrated with how furious he could make her feel. "You get yours because you buy it."

"You bet your way twice tonight. You won once, by cheating," he reproached, daring her to disagree.

"And you cheated Lucky to get me alone," she cried, pissed that yet again, she'd somehow forgotten how all this started from his damn bet.

"Well, I didn't cheat just now, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to get what I want," he replied, looking her up and down. "And if you play nicely, you just may get what you want too."

She tensed up, knowing he wasn't talking about telling her how much money he gave Lucky, but she wasn't going to back down.

"And just what do you want from me, Jason?" she asked, leaning towards him and placing a hand on his chest. "What can I possibly give you that you haven't already passed up?"

He grunted, placing his hand over hers , and holding it to her chest. "A kiss," he replied simply, "And before you turn that into an argument, you offered to fuck me, not kiss me."

She sucked in a breath, caught off guard by his answer, but knew that he was waiting for her to contest his wager.

She had two choices; go through with it or tell him to shove it, and he was probably expecting the latter.

Well, too bad that he forgot _who_ was in control this time.

_Besides, a bet is a bet, and the loser has to pay. _

She pulled her hand from his and ran it down his chest. She stopped at his waist, then lifted her other hand to the opposite side, gathering his shirt in both fists.

She met his surprised gaze one last time, and then she jerked him forward.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Wait," Jason said firmly, placing his hands on her bare shoulders and pushing her backward as he tumbled forward.

Elizabeth lost balance briefly, regaining it only after her body crashed into the window behind her. Her hands dropped from his shirt immediately, moving to hold herself up against the window. She was shaking, her hands and her knees, and she could barely hold herself still.

He felt guilty when she made no movement to look at him and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Elizabeth," he murmured huskily, sucking in a breath when he realized how his voice sounded, how his tongue wrapped around her name.

Bracing his hands on either side of her, his eyes roamed over her, desperate for her to say or do something. He wasn't surprised when she remained quiet, her palms flat against the glass, her breaths quick and heavy.

"Elizabeth," he repeated, his voice gentle, "I just don't want-"

"It's okay," she interrupted, her voice trembling.

She wrapped her slender fingers around one of his wrists, tugging it away from the window, but he kept his hand firmly planted.

"I don't want you to do something you don't want to," he said, sliding his hand downward when she attempted to duck and go under his arm.

She grunted, her head falling back against the against the glass, as she raised her eyes to his. "I haven't wanted-

"I don't want you to kiss me because of a bet," he continued, not giving her the chance to finish what she _didn't_ want, especially when she'd just avoid admitting what she did.

"You wager a woman in a game of poker, which most men would use to their advantage, but you just end up playing chess. Then, you wager a kiss, and you turn her away because it's the classy thing to do," she replied, her eyebrow arching as a slow smirk spread across her plump lips. "It's a wonder you ever get laid, Jason."

"I thought you'd have realized by now that I'm not most men," he replied, liking the way his name sounded on her lips. He dropped his head, inching his face closer to hers. "And I don't want you to kiss me because once I kiss you back, I don't plan on stopping."

Her blue orbs went heavy with surprise and hesitation and her lips parted, but no words came out. He feared that he may have crossed a line, but at the same time, he was being honest. And he knew that if she could let her walls down long enough, she would admit that she felt the same way too.

"I don't do-I've never done something like this," she murmured in a breathy voice, almost sounding scared.

"You haven't done anything," he replied softly, one of his hands falling to her bare shoulder.

His thumb circled over her smooth skin. She was soft and delicate, unlike anything he'd ever touched before, and it took every ounce of restrain he had not to melt into her right there.

She shook her head, her hair moving against her shoulders. He wrapped his forefinger around a loose curl, surprised that her hair was as silky as her skin.

"I don't do this," she repeated, sounding as if she were talking herself out of something. "I don't dress like this and flirt and bat my eyes…Not to mention the fact that I took my clothes off in front of you, let alone even try to pick up men." She sunk her teeth into her lower lip, staring up at him. "Or rather, a man and I just-"

"Elizabeth," he cut in, splaying his hand over her shoulder, then running it down the length of her arm. He stopped at her wrist, moving to hold her delicate hand in his. Her skin was cool and she shivered beneath his touch. "If this is about respect or class, you-"

"I just don't do these things," she interrupted, her gaze falling to her hand that was still in his.

He smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand. "Nothing has to happen," he replied, with a sincere smile. "We're docking soon…The last time for the night, so you can…"

His voice trailed off when he noticed her crest fallen face, an all too brief moment of vulnerability. It didn't make sense to him that she would think he didn't want her.

Just as he couldn't understand why it was so impossible for her to admit that she didn't want to go, that she wanted to stay, and that she wanted him. It was written on her face, in her eyes, and he could feel it radiating off her body.

"Don't think that I don't want you," he said, dropping his other hand from the window to cup her cheek. She leaned into his touch without realizing it, her eyes fluttering closed the instant his skin grazed hers. "But I refuse to start something I can't finish…It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

Her jaw tensed against his hand, but she didn't move away. "What about this night has been fair?" she asked pointedly, her eyes flashing to his.

"I would say the majority of it," he replied, both of his hands moving tenderly against her skin. "We know where we stand and how we got here, and the bottom line is that if either of us didn't want to be here, we wouldn't be."

"So, the real question," he continued, his pulling his hands away from her and repositioning them on either side of her head, "is do you want to stay?"

Her eyes lingered on his so intensely that he wanted to look away, and he wondered if that was part of another game she was playing. She was doing so well at dancing around the truth, ignoring what she wanted, simply because it scared her.

Yeah, he _scared_ her.

He could see it in the way hesitation parted her lips and question hung in her eyes. He was sure he could do and say things that no one else ever had, and she knew it. He could make it easy and step forward, taking her as his, but he wanted her to want him.

"I understand," he answered for her, when she gave him no response. He took a step back, holding his hands up front of her. "You should go. The boat will be docking, and I know you don't want to spend the night with-"

"Please," she cut in, her voice shaky. She stayed pressed up against the glass, her hands still braced against the window.

"Please?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"Don't do this," she replied, sounding helpless, torn between staying and going. "I just…I've never…"

He nodded when her voice trailed off, trying to understand how she was feeling.

It was clear what she wanted, but something was holding her back. He knew she was probably comparing herself to those other women she'd made fun of earlier in the evening. She had to know that she was nothing like them.

He stepped towards her, returning to his previous stance; one hand braced against the window, the other tracing the ends of her hair. He dropped his head so that his lips were close enough to her ear for her to feel his breath.

"This wasn't about anything more than having a drink," he whispered, his voice low and husky, as he tangled his fingertips in her hair. "Except maybe stealing you away from your date because he didn't deserve a second of your time…Though I probably don't either."

She sucked in a breath, her chest tightening at his words. Her head turned towards his, stopping only when she realized how close he was to her. He could have easily moved forward and taken her mouth in his.

"But," he continued, watching her tiny frame stiffen against the window, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you…That I didn't want you from the first time I laid eyes on you tonight…"

She swallowed hard, a quiet sigh escaping her lips, but made no attempt to move.

"Hell, _every_ man out there wanted you," he murmured, raising his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "And there is no doubt as to why…You are so beautiful, Eliza-"

He was cut off by the crash of her body against his, her hands fisting his tuxedo shirt, as she fused hers lips to his. Instinctively, his hands were on her sides, pressing the silk of her dress against the curve of her hips. He gripped the fabric in his hands, a failed attempt at inching it upwards, desperate to touch the bare skin she'd given him a glimpse of earlier that evening. Her mouth parted, her tongue requesting entrance into his mouth, and his lips parted easily.

He knew then that there was _nothing _he could ever deny her.

He felt a shiver run down his spine when her tongue met his, swirling forcefully around one another, both of them eager to take what the other was offering. The kiss was frantic, as were their caresses. He continued to tug the dress upward, while her hands pulled at the fabric of his shirt, both hurrying towards the destination that would leave them with bare skin on bare skin.

She moaned against his mouth, her hips grinding against his, when he managed to maneuver her dress up to her knee. He hooked his hand just behind it, drawing it around his leg, before snaking his hand up her thigh. She was softer than he imagined, velvety and luscious. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him, wanting more.

The image of her from earlier in that evening flashed through his mind; teeth sunk into her lower lip, her hand on her curvy lip, and he suddenly had no restraint. He drew his tongue from her mouth, his lips suckling against her lower lip, before he raked his teeth against it.

She mewed into his mouth, one hand releasing his shirt as the other wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer. She pulled one last time on his shirt, moaning with satisfaction when she slid her hand beneath his shirt. Her palm splayed against his stomach, working it's way up to his chest, grasping at the muscles below it.

"Jason," she growled from deep within her throat, his hand cupping her just below her ass, a single finger tracing the lining of her black, lacy underwear.

He ran his hand up from the small of her back, fisting it into the ends of her hair before tugging her head backwards.

Her mouth parted from his and she let out a moan of frustration. Her lips were red and swollen, and he could see a faint mark from where his teeth had been. Her face was flushed, her eyes drowning with desire. She was panting, her breaths taut from the lack of oxygen, and she was only still standing because he was holding her up.

She met his gaze, a thin, pleasure-filled smile spreading across her lips. "I thought that would shut you up," she whispered breathlessly.

He wasn't surprised at all by her answer. "I meant what I said before," he replied, flipping her around so that her body was pressed up against the window.

She cried out softly when her back hit the glass, but he knew it wasn't cause she was hurt. He had just caught her off guard.

"I kissed you," he reminded her, grasping her wrists and holding them above her head with one of his hands. He pressed his hips into hers, sliding his other hand around her neck. "And I don't plan on stopping, Elizabeth."

Lowering his mouth to hers, he parted her lips, seeking entrance in the same way she had before. Their tongues met again, thrashing around one another. It was a dangerous dance of power; both wanting to be the one in charge, but it was already clear that she'd lost.

Her body withered between him and the glass, her hips grinding against his, gasping against his mouth when she felt his hard on between her legs. His free hand tugged at the straps of her dress, his lips continuing to move against hers, and he was frustrated at how easy she'd made it look earlier when she stripped. He gave up, dropping his hand to her waist, he tugged the fabric upward like he'd done before.

"Jason," she panted into his mouth, doing her best to pull away from his lips, but he made it so difficult.

When she finally broke free and was gasping for air, he nuzzled his face against her neck, attempting to push her hair back without using his hands. He let out a guttural growl of frustration, wanting to touch her all at once, and hating that it wasn't possible.

He gave up on what little progress he'd made at hiking her dress up and used his hand to shove her hair away. She moaned softly, her head falling against his when his tongue found her neck. Lapping gently at the base of her neck, he began a slow and painful assault, tracing a trail to just below her ear.

He grinded into her, making sure that she felt just how badly he wanted her. Her hips returned his thrusts, her voice hitching as she moaned, her head falling back against the window.

His tongue snaked around the lobe, his teething tugging it into his mouth. "Elizabeth," he hissed, his mouth hot and wet against her ear.

"Please," she whimpered, his teeth nipping at her earlobe as her hips buck against his. "Please, Jason."

"Aw, sweetheart, there's no need to beg," he whispered huskily, his lips brushing across her ear and cheek, finally taking her mouth in his. "I'm going to make sure you get just what you want."

He moved so that her hands were linked in both of his, continuing to hold them above her head. His tongue swirled around hers, his teeth raking over her lips, over and over until she was crying into his mouth. Every whimper and moan that came from those plush lips nearly sent him over the edge.

He lowered her hands, an inch at a time, keeping them pressed against the window. Only when they were at her sides, did he release them, his hands clutching her hips.

"Take your dress off," he commanded, breaking their searing kiss and pressing his forehead against hers. "Take it off like you did before."

There was no doubt in his mind that she'd be willing to comply. Keeping his hands on her hips, he stepped back, watching as she raised her hands to the strap of her dress. She kept her eyes on his and with the flick of a finger, the flimsy silk fabric fell away, and he released his hold on her long enough for the dress to fall to the floor.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to take a woman so badly, yet wanted to hold out and make it last.

And it was especially difficult when she was ready to be taken, her body and eyes begging for it.

"Jason," she murmured pleadingly, placing her hands over his as her head fell back against the window.

He imagined for a second how easy it would be to drop his pants to his knees, shove her underwear aside, and pound into her.

"So beautiful," he replied, his voice just above a whisper, his thumbs tracing the lacy band of her underwear.

Pulling a hand from beneath hers, he lifted it to her breast. He traced the swell with a single fingertip, then pinched at the nipple through the fabric. She moaned, her eyes fluttering with surprised, and she tightened her grip on his wrist to steady herself. He paid the same attention to the other; continuing the torture of slow, light strokes for several turns.

Only when she whimpered pleadingly, desperate for him to touch her bare skin, did he give his next command.

He traced the curve of the fabric one last time. "Take it off."

She nodded, eyes still on him, drunk and begging for a release. Her lips curved into a smile as she raked her hands up her sides, taking her time at teasing him.

He licked his lips in anticipation, his mouth eager to do the things he'd be thinking about since the first time he saw her. Arching her back, she slid her hands around her, unsnapping the bra, and letting it fall to the floor the same way she had her dress. She drew her hands back around her modestly, but he pulled them away.

"God, Elizabeth," he purred huskily, drinking in the site of her bare breasted, almost naked except for her underwear. "I don't even know where to start."

He stepped forward, taking his mouth in hers again, both his hands rushing over her breasts. She grabbed his hips, tugging him forward by his belt loops, breaking the kiss only to catch her breath. Resting her head on his shoulder, she moaned as his hands molded her breasts against his palms, her own grasping for his belt buckle.

His lips retraced their movements over her neck, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. She moaned, pressing herself against his hands, as she attempted to free him from his pants.

Determined to distract her, his hands moved to her shoulders, pushing her back against the window. She cried out in frustration, but he hushed her with a gentle kiss, before slowly making his way down to her breasts. He brushed his lips against the valley of her breasts, instantly her hands were raking through his hair, silently urging him to touch her.

He gave into her need, lapping his way across one of her breasts. His tongue spun around the nipple, pulling it between his teeth, before lapping at it gently. Her hips bucked and her hold tightened, and he was sure she was swearing under her breath.

"Jason, please," she cried, her head falling forward and resting against his as he moved across her chest, making sure to give both breasts equal attention.

He couldn't help but grin against her, his tongue continuing to tease her nipple, as he tilted his head back to look up at her. Her teeth was sunk into her lower lip, her eyes more hazy than before, and she looked ready to explode at any minute.

He found it difficult to imagine what she would be like when this was all said and done, but then again, that was the point; to make it unforgettable.

She whimpered, roughly raking her hands through his hair, as if trying to get her point across.

Releasing the nipple from his lips, he nuzzled his face against her breast one last time, then moved so that his face was just in front of hers.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered hoarsely, his hand cupping her cheek, while his thumb traced over her swollen lips. Her cheeks flushed at his request, letting him know that her thoughts were anything but pure. "Don't be afraid or nervous, Elizabeth. Just tell me."

"You-you know what I want," she replied faintly, her eyes closing for a second, as if she were embarrassed.

He moved to tuck her hair behind her ear, placing an almost chaste kiss on her cheek. "Do you want me to touch you?" he asked, his lips brushing against her ear.

She nodded, squirming against the window. He could see goose bumps forming on her skin, knowing that she was getting chilly, her body growing hotter while the window was stayed cool.

Dropping his hand from her face, his forefinger drew a line down her body, starting at her shoulder and ending just above her belly button.

"Do you want me to touch you…there?" he asked, his tongue lapping at her earlobe as he pressed his hand against her lower abdomen. She nodded, her head falling limply towards him. "I can't hear you."

"Yes," she hissed, one of her hands moving to his wrist, a failed attempt to guide his hand where she wanted it to go.

He moved his face back to look at hers, taking her hand in his own, as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Show me what you want," he whispered, looking down at her hand, feeling the tension run through it as soon as the words left his lips. "Show me, Elizabeth…Show me what you want, what you like you, what you need."

Her eyes lingered on his, taking in each of his requests. She swallowed hard, pulling her hand from beneath his, linking her fingers over them.

"I want you to touch me," she whispered, her request low and gruff, as she inched his hand beneath the lining of her the scrap of lace that covered her.

He bit his lip, his eyes falling to their hands, as she moved him slowly towards her center. She barely moved, spreading her legs just enough to slide their hands between them.

"Touch me here," she whispered, unlinking her hand from his and pressing his fingertips against her slit.

She was wet and swollen, aching to be touched. She shifted her hips, pushing them against his hand, while her hand moved his against her.

Instinctively, his hands curled against her center, as Jason surpassed the point of self-restraint. He was surprised when she didn't pull her hand away, instead wrapping her fingers around his wrist, when he slipped a single finger inside her slick cavern.

Her hips bucked immediately, a loud gasp bursting from her plump lips, and he slid an arm around her waist to keep her balanced.

"Like that?" he asked, sliding a second finger in, causing another cry to come from her lips.

She nodded, his fingers pumping steadily, but roughly inside her.

"Ja-Jason," she murmured, her free hand gripping his arm tightly, her hips baring down on his hand with every thrust.

"That's it, Elizabeth," he coaxed, dropping his head to her breast, his tongue lapping leisurely at the tip.

Her hand slid from his arm to his head, holding his mouth against her chest, while she pumped hurriedly against him. Her moans came louder, closer together, and he knew that her release was not far off. His teeth nipped at the tip of her breast, his tongue soothing it, while he swirled his thumb over the tiny bud between her legs.

"Oh, oh, Jason," she panted, her head falling back against the window, when the tremors started to build.

Abandoning her breast he moved so that his eyes were on hers, eager to see her when she crossed that peak. Her eyes fluttered as if the sheer pleasure made it too difficult for her to keep them open. They widened at the last moment, his name coming over and over from her lips, the sparks filling her eyes.

She rode the waves for as long as she could, collapsing against him when she realized it was over. She buried her face in his chest, one hand still on his wrist, the other around his waist.

"Elizabeth," he said, pressing a gentle kiss against her temple. "Are you-"

She cut him off again, her lips moving over his, her hands fisting his shirt. It was a replay of earlier, but this was different.

Yes, this was _very_ different, he told himself after she'd spun him around and shoved him against the window, her nails raking over the front of his shirt.

Her head tipped back, her eyes narrowing at his. "You tend to talk too much," she murmured, her trembling fingers fussing over the first button, torn between ripping it open and going slow and steady.

"Funny," he replied, gently combing her hair away from her face. "Usually I'm told I don't say enough…Must be something you do to me."

She arched an eyebrow, her fingers making their way to the third button. "Tell me," she teased, her eyes flashing with amusement. She stopped mid-button and ran her hands up and down his chest. "Just what do I do, Jason?"

His hands went to her hips, gripping them tightly as he jerked her towards him. Sliding a hand against the small of her back, he forced his way between her legs, grinding against her.

"I think you know just what you do," he replied smugly, licking his lips when pleasure washed over her face again. He held her against him, his other hand moving to tweak her breast. "Or do I need to remind you again?"

"I don't need you to remind me of anything," she hissed playfully, sliding her hand between their bodies, her palm pressing against the bulge in his pants.

He swore, this time his head falling back against the glass, and she seemed surprised that he didn't stop her from touching him. She kept her hand against him, her other moving to flick the remaining buttons on his shirt. When it was open, she stood their quietly, drinking in his bare chest with her eyes.

"Take it off," she murmured, a devious grin on her on her lips. She didn't give him much space to maneuver the shirt off, and she laughed quietly, unable to hold back her amusement when he swore.

The second the shirt hit the floor, she pressed her bare skin against his, nuzzling her face against his smooth chest. He swore again when she brushed her lips against his skin, her tongue lapping across it gently, while her hands molded it beneath her palms.

She let her tongue go to work, tracing circles and lines, leaving him swearing non-stop. Her hands moved to his belt buckle, this time she acted not distracted, and he was open and free within seconds.

She murmured with anticipation, her hands slipping beneath the band of his pants and boxer briefs, before she pushed them down. Her fingernails raked against his as they pulled his pants to the floor, and he drank in the site of her on her knees in front of him.

God, she truly was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and he would never tire of saying that.

"Step out," she murmured, continuing to mimic his commanding tone.

No one else would have ever gotten away with it, but she was just so damn hot, that he was sure he'd do whatever she told him to.

She inched her way back up his body, pressing her chest against him, one of her hands wrapping around his erection. He hissed, his body bucking forward, and she let out another quiet laugh.

"How's that?" she asked, tightening her grip as she began to pump him in her hand.

"Elizabeth," he growled, shifting her eyes to her, and swearing again when she winked.

"That's it," she coaxed, biting her lip as she raked her nails over her chest again.

"I'd say it is," he growled, his slim fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her away from him.

He'd shown far too much self-restraint tonight, and he was reaching his breaking point.

"You can play later all you want, sweetheart," he murmured, grabbing her other hand and spinning her back around towards the window. "But right now, I can only take so much."

She cried out, her bare back coming into contact with the cool glass. He released her hands long enough to shove the lacy scrap of panties down, making it his turn to command her to step out of something.

On his knees in front of her, he slipped the lace from beneath her feet, tossing it aside. He tipped his head back, drinking her in as she loomed above him. He could see in her eyes that she was already desperate for another release. His hand snaked across the floor to his pants, digging for his wallet, all the while his eyes never leaving hers.

He held an ankle in each of his hands, running his hands slowly up her sides as he moved upward. Her body withered beneath his touch as he made his way over the bare curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts, coming to a stop when he cupped her face. Their tongues met again, swirling around one another in familiarity, as he pressed a knee between her legs.

"Come on," he urged, stepping between her legs when she parted instantly at his request.

She reached for the foil wrapper, tearing it open in her hands, then moving slowly to roll it onto his length. He growled, pressing his face against her neck as her hands moved over him, teasing him one last time.

Resting a hand on her hip, he pulled her away, positioning her so that he was right at her entrance. Hooking an arm beneath one of her knees, he drew her leg around him, so that his tip pressed against her slit. Moaning loudly, her hands grasped at him, seeking something to hold onto as he pushed himself inside her.

He planted a hand against the glass to balance them, drawing her leg up higher around him, and plunging even deeper into her throbbing center. She was more tight than he'd expected, and he moved slowly at first, knowing that one wrong movement and he'd explode before things ever got started.

"Elizabeth," he murmured against her neck, his hand tugging at her leg that was still resting on the floor. "I need you to…"

"Yeah, like that," he moaned, when she shifted to wrap her legs around him, her arms moving around his neck. "God, just like that."

He moved to find her lips, taking them in his, as he slowly thrust against her. She broke the kiss immediately, a low moan escaping her lips, her head falling to his shoulder. He knew that both were already on the brink of a release, so there was no need to hold back.

He shifted to hold her at her hips, pressing her against the window, his hips pumping against hers. She raked her fingernails over his shoulder blades, her mouth moving over his skin, teeth biting and tongue soothing as he moved inside her. Each thrust slowly became harder than the one that came before.

"Jason," she purred, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly, as her head fell back against the window. She matched him thrust for thrust, her back banging against the window every time he pushed into her. "Oh, Jason…"

He felt himself tremble simply from the way she said his name, and he knew that he couldn't hold out any longer. Sliding a hand from beneath her, he moved between their bodies, his thumb seeking out the bud between her legs.

When he pressed against it lightly, her nails dug into his shoulders, and a long, throaty moan came from her lips. She trembled against him and around him, repeating his name over and over, as her head fell back against the window.

She was practically sobbing from pleasure when he felt his own release come upon him. With one last thrust, he pressed his face against her neck, crying out as he came right behind her.

He held her there, hands gripping her bottom, holding her against him. His face still pressed against her neck, her hands still gripping his shoulders.

When his own breathing eased and he was sure he could move, he shifted her in his arms and started across the room. He barely made it to the bed before he collapsed, falling on top of her.

He rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand, his hand tugging the flimsy sheet away from her body that she was already pulling over her. She blushed at the gesture, her hands moving instinctively to cover herself.

"Don't."

His voice was firm and commanding, and her hands fell away immediately.

He reached for her. Placing his palm against her cheek, he stroked her face until her head turned towards him. Her face was still flushed, her breaths heavy, her eyes still drunk from pleasure.

Her skin was so soft beneath his, like velvet, and he felt a stirring deep within, just from being next to her.

He dropped his hand to her shoulder, his fingertips swirling circles against her creamy skin as his hand moved. Her sighs were barely audible as she closed her eyes, her body arching beneath his touch.

He traced a slow path down her body; his thumb sweeping over the swell of her breast, his forefinger pressing against the curve of her hip. His fingers drummed a light rhythm as they stretched across her lower abdomen. Pressing his palm against her, she whimpered slightly, her hips thrusting against his touch.

"Elizabeth," he murmured gently, his hand inching up her opposite side, mimicking his previous movements.

She responded with another low audible sigh, her hands fisting the sheet below her body, her lashes fluttering as she tried to look at him.

"Jason, I don't think I can…Not again," she continued to pant, as he lowered his hand to her knee, tugging her so that she was laying on her side. "Jason…I-"

This time he cut her off, placing his lips over hers, suckling gently at her lower lip. "Did anyone ever tell you, you talk too much?" he teased, his tongue making it's way into her mouth.

Her hand reached for his waist, pulling him against her, and she gasped into his mouth when she felt him harden against her thigh.

"Jason," she murmured, still breathless, her head falling back so that she could look at him. "I just…Oh…"

And he was the one who laughed quietly, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. "There's no rush," he whispered, cupping her cheek in his hand, and staring into her eyes. "Cause the way I see it, we're just getting started, sweetheart."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Wake up, Elizabeth," Jason murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, as his fingertips moved lightly over her bare skin.

She sighed halfheartedly in her sleep, a slow grin spreading across her lips. "I was having such a good dream," she muttered teasingly, attempting to stretch her arms, then realized his body was looming above her.

Her head fell back against her pillow, his lips working against her neck, slowly making their way to her chest.

"I guarantee that I can top any dream," he replied, his tongue tracing a blazing trail, forearms planted on either side of her head to hold his weight off her tiny frame.

She chuckled, her voice raspy. "No doubt about that," she said, her hands running down his chest, settling on his firm hips.

Her lashes fluttered open, lids parting to land on his, ocean eyes drowning in one another. His hands skimmed over her, grazing her breasts, tugging all too briefly at her nipples.

Moaning, she thrust upwards, running her thumbs over his hips in a circular motion. His desire was reflected in his eyes, his need pressed against her thigh. She felt her legs part on their own, as he settled between them.

Unlike so much of their love-making from the prior evening, she knew this wasn't going to be drawn out. The hitch of his breath, the way his hands moved to clutch her hips, and the growl against her throat as he eased inside her were all signals that this was to be fast and to the point.

_Not that she cared. _

They'd taken enough time during the night, leaving Elizabeth to wonder if she'd be able to walk straight come morning. And from the way, he was working his body against hers right now, she wasn't sure she'd even be able to stand.

Sex with Jason was different from sex with any other man. The peak of pleasure was a place he was determined for both of them to reach-_together_.

A cruel game began during the moments where they learned one another's bodies; figuring out just what was a turn on, how to stroke the release out just right, and how to continue the blissful torture until they just couldn't take it anymore-two lovers both trying to top what one did to the other.

And in the end they were both left panting, flat on their backs, utterly exhausted.

_Not that either of them cared. _

No, Elizabeth told herself, his hands tugging her legs around his waist, causing him to slide even further inside her.

Was there anything better than being left breathless and immobile?

She moaned again, his hands digging into the curve of her hips, her face pressed against his neck. Desperation overwhelmed her, to be close to him, to taste him. Sliding her arms around his neck, she pulled him as she could, her lips moving across his neck.

His groan turned into a low growl, her lips pulling his skin between her teeth, suckling hard to brand him as her own. She abandoned his neck only after his hand tugged her away, mouth seeking hers, and placing a searing kiss that left Elizabeth trembling below him.

Crying out loudly, her lips left his, her hands grasping at his moving hips. Her body pressed further into the bed with every thrust and when she felt his hand move between her legs, she called his name out of sheer anticipation.

"Oh, God," she murmured, his thumb brushing over the bud between her legs, emitting shivers throughout and through in her body. Raking a hand against the nape of his neck, she held him against her, her other hand cradling the small of his back.

"Told you it was better than your dream," he replied, his lips against her ear like before, his teeth pulling the lobe into his mouth.

There was no way to tell who reached the point of no return first; both lips bursting open when the waves of pleasure consumed them, both gasping for breath when it slowly subsided.

Jason moved off her reluctantly, his body lingering above hers, as he placed a gentle kiss against her shoulder. She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her arm, this time admiring him.

The sheet fell just below his waist, at the start of the most glorious hips she'd ever seen on a man. His skin was perfect, as if carved and made by hand, and there was nothing on him that she didn't like.

_God, the man was beautiful. _

His eyes snapped open suddenly, finding hers immediately, a satisfied smirk on his lips. She blushed to know he knew she was appreciating him. Then again, they'd both done so much _admiring_ of one another that it shouldn't have mattered.

Sitting up in bed, she drew the sheet halfway over her breasts, leaving her back and bottom exposed. She grew flushed all over again when his eyes trailed over her back, his fingertips brushing over the base of her spine, causing her to shiver.

"You okay?" he asked huskily, moving to sit beside her.

He was less modest with his own body, paying little attention when the sheet slid down, and she found almost impossible _not_ to look.

_Yeah, he definitely was perfect. _

She nodded, when she felt his arm slide around her, and pull her against the crook of his shoulder.

"I just-" She paused, looking over her shoulder at him, and couldn't believe that she found herself wanting him again already. "I just can't believe-I just don't do this-Never done anything like this."

"So you reminded me over and over," he murmured, gently moving her hair from her shoulder, his lips roaming over her skin. "Regrets?"

"None," she sighed, leaning into him as his lips made their way to her neck. "It's not every night that Elizabeth Webber picks up a man-Or rather gets picked up and goes home with him…Hell, I never really even talk to strangers."

She felt his lips curve into a grin against her ear, his tongue snaking against the lobe. "I'm not surprised that you're a woman that follows the rules," he whispered, running a hand up and down her arm.

Laughing, she turned herself towards him, looking him in the eye. "And I'm not surprised that you're a man that breaks them all," she replied, the sheet slipping from her body, his hands pulling hers away before she could tug it back around her.

"Just imagine the trouble we could get into," he said, moving quickly so that she was on her back and he was over her again.

"More like the trouble you could get me into," she replied, hands cupping his cheeks, and pulling his mouth to hers.

Her lips parted easily, eager for the familiar dance of their tongues around one another. Hands moved across her breast, hips settled between hers, and he broke the kiss only when he was gasping for his next breath.

"You definitely cause a trouble all your own," he said, moving her loose curls from her face. "And you don't realize it, which is the worst kind."

She snickered, shaking her head. "You think you know, but you have no idea," she replied, thinking of just how boring she really was.

"You're probably right," he murmured, placing a chaste kiss against her forehead. "I've only known you for one evening…" He paused, one hand holding himself above her, the other tracing a path over her creamy skin. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to know everything about you."

Her eyes rolled before she could stop them, and he almost looked taken back by her response. She bit her lip, staring up at him with nervous eyes. "I mean, it's just we-This wasn't planned," she replied hesitantly, "and I don't want you to think that I expect something-Expect more than this."

She sucked in a breath, gaze shifting off to the side of his head. "And I uh, I had planned-well, I figured I'd be gone before you woke up," she continued with a heavy sigh, her eyes shifting back to his. "I mean, isn't that how this works? We both got what we wanted and so, why…" Her voice trailed off and she shrugged, knowing that she sounded like an idiot.

"Well, I'm glad I woke up first," he said, moving to lay at her side, his hand still touching her. "Otherwise, I'd have been very disappointed this morning."

Fighting her grin was impossible, something about being so wanted turning her on more than anything had before. "Well, I'm glad you woke up first too," she replied mockingly, "because we all know how Jason Morgan doesn't like being disappointed."

"No, he does not," he agreed, dropping his head to place a gentle kiss on her shoulder, sending a shiver up her spine.

She closed her eyes, letting out a sigh, amazed at just what this man could manage to do to her.

"Jason," she murmured, hands reaching to pull him over her again, legs parting so he could return to that familiar place.

"Elizabeth," he muttered in return, slipping the sheet from her body, settling against her hips.

"You're evil," she hissed playfully, raking her hands through his hair.

"And you can't get enough of it," he replied, placing his lips over hers, tongue parting her lips.

She groaned against his mouth, her hands doing their best to hold his mouth to hers, when there was a knock on the door.

Swearing, he pulled himself away, moving across the bed and looking around for his pants. He chuckled when she cursed too, falling back beside her to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Just a second, and I promise we'll pick up where we left off," he whispered huskily, hurrying to his feet and across the room to where his pants lay in a heap at the window.

Drawing the sheet around her, she rolled onto her stomach, burying her face into a pillow. She did her best not to scream in frustration, mostly thinking it was ridiculous to want something this much.

Especially when she had so much of it already.

She propped her chin up in her hand, sapphire eyes narrowed as he tugged his pants over the hips that should be unclothed and in bed with her, not answering the door to whatever disturbance was on the other side.

"Just wanted to let you know we're docked, the casino is cleared and cleaned from last night, and the guests who stayed over night are having breakfast now," she heard a voice say obediently.

_Fucking Lassie. _

"Thanks, Johnny," he replied shortly, holding the door close to his side.

It was only when he shifted to step out into the hallway that she realized the bed was in Johnny's direct line of vision had Jason not been standing there.

"Are you going to come eat with everyone?" his friend asked exhaustedly, and she imagined that he was either hung over or had managed to find someone to bed.

She'd place her money on hung over-_all four thousand dollars of it._

"I can't this morning," he replied, clearing his throat as if trying to make a point, which wasn't clear enough for his business partner.

"I know how you…" His voice trailed off, lowering to a whisper, and Elizabeth imagined that someone had passed them in the hall. "But damn, Jason, this is for business."

"I, uh, I have guest," he replied, shifting uncomfortably between the door and frame, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Really?" Johnny asked in disbelief, "So, I take it the taming of the shrew didn't go so well?"

"Is someone like you allowed to use Shakespeare puns?" Jason answered with a question, and she couldn't help but laugh, taking no offense to being called a shrew.

"Well, who is she?…Was it the blonde from the bar…You know who looks like she has implants, but says they are-"

"No," he cut in curtly, his back tensing in annoyance.

"Or the brunette with the sparkly dress that hung around you at the craps table?…No, she was far too stupid for you…What about the one with the big, brown eyes and…"

Somehow she managed to ignore what appeared to be a never ending list of women who had hit on Jason the night before. Was Elizabeth the only one there who hadn't realized he was Jason Morgan?

"I have to go," she heard Jason urge, moving to shut the door, but his friend wasn't having it.

"Just one peek, Jason," he begged, smacking his hand against the door. "I didn't get any last night…She won't even know I was-"

"Get the fuck out of here," he said firmly, and she imagined he was rolling his eyes at Johnny.

She laughed to herself when suddenly the door shoved open enough for Johnny to see her sitting propped up against the headboard. And she couldn't help but enjoy that Johnny seemed surprised to find her there.

Lifting a hand, she wiggled her fingers at him. "Good morning, Johnny," she called out, only half embarrassed to be caught in Jason's bed.

"No fucking way," he said in disbelief, face breaking into a grin, as he smacked Jason on the arm. "You, my friend, are the fucking master."

"We will talk _later_," he murmured, shaking his head. "And send some breakfast over."

"You have to teach me how you do it, Casanova," Johnny replied, leaning against the door as Jason attempted to close it. "I need women to fall to their knees and-" His voice hushing when it was cut off by the slamming of the door.

He turned to her, back against the door, giving her an apologetic look. "He's uh, a little…Well, you saw him in full force last night," he said, folding his arms across his chest, as if waiting for her to respond.

She tipped her head to the side, moving to sit on her knees, the sheet tightly wrapped beneath her arms. "It's okay," she replied with a shrug. "I didn't exactly fall to my knees…" She gave him a wry smile, felt the color rushing to her cheeks. "At least not right away."

Raising his eyebrows, he strode towards her, arms still over his chest. "You know, I think he was genuinely shocked to find you here," he said, moving across the bed on his knees.

"Really?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "You mean, not every woman you accost in such a manner hops right into bed with you?"

He settled in front of her, ignoring her comment about other women. "Johnny didn't believe I had a chance with you," he murmured, letting out a curious sigh. "And to be honest, I didn't either."

"Oh," she replied, lips remaining wrapped around the word after it left her mouth.

Something about Jason Morgan's right hand man telling him that he didn't have a chance with a woman interested her.

Hell, it almost made her feel special.

"I suppose there was something about him that I found endearing."

She leaned forward, placing her hands on his shoulders, shoving him back against the bed. He fell easily, pulling her against him. Settling above him, she rested her chin on his chest, eyes dazzling with curiosity.

"So, was that like a bet too?" she teased, smoothing her hands over his tight shoulders. "You know a game of can you tame the shrew or not?"

"You are far from a shrew…And I think I've done enough gambling to last me a while," he replied, tucking her hair behind her ears, fingers tangling in the ends.

Biting her lip, she sighed, her question from the night before hanging over her head. "How much?" she asked softly, staring down at his chest.

"Elizabeth," he said, his palm cupping her cheek, forcing her to look at him. "I told you it doesn't matter."

"It matters," she replied, doing her best not to scowl.

She couldn't explain why it did, or hell, maybe it didn't. It was something that she felt like she needed to know. After all the time she'd spent with Lucky, trying to be the best possible girlfriend, molding herself into someone he wanted-She deserved to know how _little _he was willing to sell her out for.

"A million dollars," he said, chuckling before the words left his mouth.

"Lower," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "No man would pay that much for a night-"

"I wasn't paying for anything," he cut in firmly, his thumb grazing over her cheek.

"You paid him for something," she said pointedly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"There is no amount too little or too high to get a woman like _you_ away from a man like _that_," he replied, tugging her face towards his to place a gentle kiss against her lips. "It wasn't about sex or the drink or wanting you…You could have walked out of this room last night, and I would have been satisfied knowing that you were going anywhere, except back to him."

Elizabeth couldn't help but think that Jason's answer had been worth whatever amount had been wagered. And had he really done it just to get her away from Lucky, well, she imagined she should be thanking him.

"And instead?" she asked, her lips just inches away from his.

"Instead?" he repeated, stretching to kiss her again, clearly pondering his answer. "Well, it's safe to say, I came off satisfied in other ways."

She shook her head, dropping her face against his shoulder, skin flushing yet again. He just seemed to have that effect on her.

Tilting her head back to look at him, she ran her palms over his chest, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "Please tell me you have a deck of cards somewhere in this room," she whispered, moving so that her legs were on either side of him.

He gave her a curious look, hands skimming up and down her thighs. "Why?"

"Oh, I figured one last wager wouldn't hurt," she replied coyly, raising her eyebrows at him, as she moved to plant her hands on either side of his head. "One last game of blackjack-no counting involved this time."

"Fair and square?" he asked, cerulean eyes staring up at her, clearly enjoying whatever new game she was about begin.

"Fair and square," she replied huskily, dropping her mouth to his, placing a short and searing kiss against his mouth.

"The stakes?" he asked, hands pulling the sheet away from her body, pleased when she didn't shy away from his roaming eyes.

"If you win," she murmured slowly, lips brushing over his neck, tongue lapping at the bruises left during their prior lovemaking. "If you win…You can take me out to dinner tonight."

"And if I lose?" he growled, her hips pressing against his as she moved to sit up.

"Oh, that would just be terrible," she said, clucking her tongue, winking at him playfully.

"Really?" he asked, his hands tightening around her thighs.

"Oh yes," she replied, running her hands across his chest. "If I win, I guess we'll just have to order in."

Chuckling, he moved his hands from her thighs, wrapping them around her wrists. He flipped her gracefully, so that she was tucked beneath his body, his hands linking with hers as he held himself above her.

"I suppose those are extremely fair wagers," he murmured, lips curved into a devious grin. "Though I have to point out that there really is no loss for either one of us."

She shook her head. "If you win, we have to get to get dressed and dolled up…Probably run into someone we know and have to answer questions about why we're out together," she replied seriously. "But if I win, we can just stay right here, eat in bed, never have to move-Well, you'll have to get up to answer the door-"

"I will, huh?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Maybe we can take turns," she replied, with a wide eyed grin. "That is assuming that you wanted to see me again…Otherwise, this whole ordeal is-"

"Oh, no," he interrupted, dropping his face so that it was next to hers, lips brushing against her cheek. "I wanted to see you again…And I _will_." He nuzzled against her ear, his hot breath sending a shiver throughout her body. "Cause the way I see it, _this_ is far from over."

"Well," she said, biting her lip as she stared up at him, "then I guess it's time to see how the cards play out."

**The End**


	11. Chapter 11

**Attention Readers:**

I just wanted to let you all know that I will **no** longer be updating my fics on this site and that within the next couple weeks or so, I'll have the account removed in its entirety.

I have been having so many issues with uploading my documents from Word and the documents still containing tons of mistakes that aren't in the copy I have saved on my computer. I've tried countless ways of avoiding this, but it's still happening, and lately I've been getting lots of PMs/Emails/Comments about the lack of editing. It's as frustrating for me as it is for you to read, and I'm tired of not being able to fix it, especially when I spend so much time editing them.

I have a personal website with all my fanfics (as well as site exclusives) that you can find here linked on my author page. For some reason I couldn't link it here - just another reason to be pissed off with this site. You do have to register an account to read, but it only takes a few minutes. I send out email alerts every time a story is updated just like you receive on here or you can bookmark a thread to receive alerts when it's updated.

If you wish to continue reading the stories, you'll have to sign up for my site. I know it's inconvenient, but has proven to be more inconvenient than anything else for me, and I'm throwing in the towel.

Hopefully you're not too pissed off at me for doing this and I'll see you on the site.

Ambs


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